As an artist you hope people will value your work and for that to happen you seek to be seen – to find an audience. There is undoubtedly more than one way to try to get that attention, all of them demanding a degree of boldness that I have tended to struggle with. What I do love however, and have done from as early as I can remember, is the act of creating art and I feel driven to keep developing myself and to find ways to make a living in this way. As a result I have made myself do the things you need to do – running a website, using social media, approaching galleries, applying for art competitions … as it turned out (amongst the many many failures) with a degree of success.
One thing that never occurred to me however was the possibility of appearing on national TV, not even after watching Sky Arts Landscape Artist of the Year (LAOTY) over several years and then speaking with one or two artists who appeared on it, who extolled both their enjoyment of appearing and the supportive nature of the film-makers. Then came the Covid year of 2020. In the enforced stillness of that time I suddenly felt an urge to apply and although I wasn’t selected for a pod I was able to take part as a wildcard (at West Wycombe) – where I was astonished to be chosen as the wildcard winner. Then the following year I was invited to paint in a pod at the Eden Project. These were fascinating and positive experiences for me and now three years later I had a sudden further urge to have another go!
Susan Isaac – Senate House Passage Cambridge (LAOTY 2025 submission piece)
So, at the 11th hour (my default setting), I sent my LAOTY series 10 application to the production company, Storyvault, in a third attempt at TV’s most illustrious art prize. It was accompanied by my painting of Senate House Passage in Cambridge (including one side of Gonville and Caius College, Stephen Mangan’s Alma mater it turns out). To my delight, one of the production team subsequently rang inviting me to take part in the programme – the first challenge was ticked off!
A few weeks later, laden with rucksacks filled with kit and canvases, my husband and I took a train to my allocated heat destination. We were to be based somewhere near the St Pancras Basin – now a peaceful heritage-themed residential zone, but once a thriving hive of industrial activity. I couldn’t have asked for more – industrial landscapes being one of my favourite environments to paint.
St Pancras Basin, London
At 6:45am prompt, on the morning of 27 June 2024, artists assembled in a smart new retail zone – The Coal Drops Yard – to be fed breakfast and read the days rules and itinerary and meet the staff who’d be directing us throughout the day. We were fitted with hidden microphones, batteries etc and, remembering previous wire installations, I was grateful for my wardrobe decisions (note to potential applicants – probably best not to wear a onesie!). This equipment was later replaced with some hands-free, all singing and dancing Kate-Bush-style mikes, the round mouthpiece of which clung to the upper lip like an over-large mole.
A stones-throw away the iconic pods had been unpacked and angled to give a view over the nearby canal, looking towards some narrow boats and sundry canal-side buildings with plenty of idyllic watery reflections – a plein air artists dream, but unfortunately not quite mine. Behind the pods however, were the spectacular forms of four relocated and repurposed gasholder frames (three encircling modern flats and one a green park area). I crossed my fingers that my pod would afford me at least a glimpse of the magnificent gasholder struts. The pod gods were with me, and I was led to one with a view – provided I twisted sideways, cantilevered myself out from under the pod canopy and balanced at the front edge of my elevated platform. But it was enough.
After I and my fellow artists (Bassam Andari, Tina Trimmer, Ruth Bateman, Tim Slatter, Phill Hosking, Andrea Stable & Vlada Popescu) had all been settled into our stations, Stephen Mangan came into view, seemingly adrift on the canal water, legs astride the roof of a narrow boat, to announce the start of the competition and we all set off. It was going to be a hot day but at least we were shaded by the mass of the gasholder flats. I mapped out ideas onto my canvas, first with charcoal and later black ink, whilst the film crew and production team periodically invaded our spaces to record our expectations for the day to come.
As I said in the programme – “Having all the history here is a really lovely boon. I’m really trying hard to get the gasholder edge in so if I can work with that and bring in a little bit of reflection in the water then that would be ideal.” The girders that once held the gas holders are immense but curiously delicate in their construction, with open latticework of steel. I decided I wanted to capture a sense of their brutal industrial scale as well as their handsome classically inspired decorative columns. Having mapped them in, I then led the footpath back through the pictorial space to distant buildings, which I left quite vague and suggestive of warehouses. I also noted down the edge of the canal and a sense of some water.
Then it was the turn of the shows’ judges to pay us a visit, to further draw out our deepest thoughts and processes. Kate Bryan came over for an early interview and referred to my submission painting of Cambridge – “There was something very moody about your submission that we were really taken with. There were obviously contemporary signs within it, but the feeling was something that transported us to a different era – I suppose we might anticipate a bit of the same thing then today if you are interested in the historic elements?” As I said in my responses – “I’m trying to convey the industrial aspect of the site – so yes dark and moody … I’m hoping to have a bit of texture and a bit of drama … Its all to play for with the sky – I don’t know what it’s going to do.”
By late morning my painting was progressing as well as I could have hoped for, but the early merciful shade gave way to lunchtime glaring sun. Luckily my husband had occupied himself with long walks, including one to charity shops in the not-too-distant Camden Town and returned with a straw sun hat. This offered me some protection in continuing my now contre-jour view, which worked well for a time. But then, in the manner of a theatrical farce, a sudden breeze snatched the sun hat from my head and deposited it in the canal, just out of reach. A very kind security man made gallant efforts to retrieve it with an increasingly long pole, risking an early bath. Eventually he was successful, although it now looked like a wet nappy and was no longer fit for purpose.
The Wildcards in Gasholder Park
Occasionally during breaks I would have an opportunity to chat with fellow artists and sometimes a wildcard would drift over in our direction. However, the wildcards are almost a separate event within the filming. For this episode they had been herded into the nearby rather splendid setting of the adjacent Gasholder Park, with its visually disorientating avenue of mirrored columns. I did not envy them their challenge!
Meanwhile more filming was taking place, including of the judges gathering at intervals for thoughts on everyone’s progress, which of course we artists didn’t hear at the time. It was only when the programme was broadcast that I subsequently learned how at the halfway point there had been some concern over my use of the palette knife and of how I was going to treat the sky. Tai-Shan Schierenberg commented, “I like Susan’s take … there’s a real grittiness and inner city feel to it and I just love that, but you can’t do anything with the sky without messing it up.” Kate continued: “Yeh I completely agree, I think she has created a real rod for her own back because I can’t see what language sits next to that.”
Back at the pods, we painted on into a roasting afternoon, myself exposed to the full sun and feeling slightly uncomfortable, paying dearly for my off-piste choice of view and taking increasing numbers of breaks to sit further back under my greenhouse of a studio, whilst pondering my impending decision for the sky. Having initially established the built elements making up the ‘landscape’ of my painting I had of course left myself the alarmingly large volume of open sky that the judges were worried about, occupying over a quarter of the piece. I also knew that abstract compositional decisions made here were going to be a make-or-break point. The actual sky was cloudless as a blank canvas, waiting for invention in terms of colour and mark. I held my breath and ploughed into it with a large palette knife and as much determination as I could muster, given that at this point I had a large camera bearing down on me to capture my every move.
Fortunately, all went smoothly and I was able to relax into the detail of the foreground. Eventually I was running out of places to put paint and with time to spare I was beginning to stir said paint aimlessly, when Tai appeared. Responding to his comments I made the point – “So the sky was the last major thing I put into it and I wanted to have a sense of the heat of the day, keep a sense of the … industrial drama … I kept it pretty dark – sorry!”
Following this and his scrutiny of my days’ work, he concurred with my growing sense that it looked finished. Bar a few gratuitous dabs I was able to move gently towards the finishing line.
Finally, the artists were bidden to down tools, and we surrendered our work to the esteemed panel. There followed a period of debriefing interviews by the various assistant producers, canvasing our opinions on how the day had been and gone, followed by sitting to relax and enjoy some inter-contestant chat before all being ushered into Gasholder Park for the ominous line up.
I later heard Kathleen Soriano’s very complementary comment from this stage of judging – “I was so worried about what Susan was going to do with that bit of sky. Its got so much energy in it … and the energy comes not just from the volume of paint but also the way in which the paint is put on and the way it moves around … its almost like its got its own life on the surface of the canvas. And, you know, isn’t it interesting … Susan has left the edges slightly undone and for me that works really, really well.”
But at the time, close to the end of a long, hot and tiring day, I must admit I was feeling a little despondent at this point thinking it unlikely I would get any further. Then, following the first name announced – the second one turned out to be mine!
We weren’t finished yet though – because, as they always say, there can only be one winner. We shortlisted three (Andrea, Phill and I) were led off for more interviews on our thoughts and feelings, whilst the judges considered things further – of course, once again we weren’t party to these at this point – again I only heard their comments when the programme was broadcast, but it turned out they were quite positive about my pieces.
Stephen – “Now Kate, when we spoke at half time you said there was nothing Susan could do to make that painting work and yet low and behold here she is in the shortlist of three ….”
Kate – “Something remarkable happened – I made a mistake. Yes, I was wrong, I can say it and she came in with this sort of brooding expressive sky and the colour range is gorgeous. I mean I’ve really fallen in love with this painting.”
Stephen – “Her skies are spectacular in both aren’t they?
Kathleen – “They are spectacular in both, and I hadn’t realised how similar they were. Its almost like she saves it – it becomes the focus.”
Tai – “I like Susan’s reduced palette. It’s got a strange sort of dark historical heft to it and I think it comes from that reduction down to the power of the black line and the drawing and the painting. And what makes it I think more contemporary is … the paint application with the palette knife is ugly – Susan is not making things look ‘nice’.”
Essentially, they really liked what I had done and recognised my vision for the work! But at the time it was still a solid surprise to me when, with the three of use lined up before judges, crew and audience, I realised Stephen Mangan was announcing MY name as the winner. The judges took it in turns to kiss my cheek and Stephen intimated that I had a suitably stunned expression. Michael, my camera-shy husband, was being pushed forward by the crowd to also kiss my cheek and to warmly embrace me.
I was then led away for a further interview before filming finally wrapped for the day. All that was left was for me to sign a document allowing the Storyvault team to take my submission and heat paintings away with them. Shortly after, at 6:45pm, Michael helped to gather my kit and led me from the set aiming for our hotel for a well-earned rest with an early night and lots of sleep.
Judy Chicago ‘Rainbow Warrior’
Having planned to spend the next day relaxing in London, no matter what the result, we were then able to enjoy the realisation that I was through to the semi-final as we wandered around Hyde Park and the artworks of the Serpentine Galleries, in particular contemplating a fabulous show of work by Judy Chicago (this one is ‘Rainbow Warrior’), before catching our evening train home.
On 23 March, Lockdown turned everything outside in, and with pipelined projects 
Susan Isaac - Paintings & Sculpture 