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The Art of Curiosity
Showcasing the work of Kirsty McNay
Emily
November 23, 2024
(Artwork images credited to Kirsty McNay, photographs to Emily Fowler, unless otherwise noted)
I can’t quite recall where I first saw an image of Kirsty’s work, but I do remember the moment it grabbed my attention.
It was a photo showing one of her landscape pieces, and from arms length (and the picture being quite small), it looked - sort of - like a regular photo or painting, but something felt...off, in the most intriguing way.
I remember holding the magazine up to my face, trying to figure out what I was looking at.
Months later, when the Surrey Open Studios event came around, I saw that same image in the brochure. I thought to myself, I have to see this in person and ask the artist how she creates these pieces. Fast forward to a recent chat I had with Kirsty, where I got the chance to learn more about her journey to this unique style that fascinates so many, including myself.
Introducing Kirsty McNay
So, my first question was an obvious one; why collage?
“When the kids were little, we’d always do loads of art projects, and collage was such an easy go-to - ripping, cutting, and glueing. Some of it actually looked quite nice.” she tells me, laughing. |
She also created seasonal mood boards for her kids, filled with magazine images and words that captured the essence of each season, sharing, "I wanted them to look, to see, and to be aware of nature and its changes throughout the year.”
Kirsty’s path to her current style emerged organically from those simple family activities. She continued to explore collage using both magazine images and other collected papers. “I always liked the effect of torn paper," she said, explaining how she leans into the contrast between the hard lines of cut images and the softer torn edges. |
Discussing the decision making process of selecting which image to use, she told me, “I’ve always liked using something that isn’t quite what it is.” Even when working with magazine clippings in her earlier work, she didn’t just grab a photo of the sky for a sky; she’d hunt for colours, textures, and patterns that conveyed the effect she wanted.
Experimentation is a big part of Kirsty’s work. "It’s just about seeing how something might work as something else", she notes. She enjoys playing around with the collage pieces, combining them in different ways to see what works. “It’s quite random,” she admitted. “I don’t start with a finished image in mind.”
I asked her what made her shift from using found images to incorporating her own photography, and she shared an important turning point. “It didn’t feel 100% mine when I was using other people’s images. I wanted to own the whole process, from start to finish.” Her style has evolved significantly since those early days. Now, she uses her own photographs exclusively. |
Alongside photographing her collage resources, she also takes beautiful photographs, which she shares on her Instagram.
As her work has grown more intricate, the illusion of depth and perspective has become more pronounced. In fact, her collages are so detailed that people often mistake them for paintings. “I’ve had people tell me they can’t see the layers, that they didn’t realise it was collage,” she said. |  |
 | She’s eager to experiment with ways to display her work telling me, “Glass creates this barrier between the viewer and the work. I want people to engage with the texture, maybe even feel it.” |
A lot of Kirsty’s landscapes are inspired from memory. “We used to take long walks in the Yorkshire Dales when I was little. I didn’t love it then, but as I got older, I really started to appreciate it.”
Photo by Illiya Vjestica on Unsplash
Those childhood memories of the landscape stayed with her, and they often resurface in her work. The sense of buildings on the horizon, created with a silhouette, or perhaps a barn or croft type of building which would be reminiscent of the Yorkshire Dales, or Lake District. You might also see a recurring image of a church spire, a design element suggested by her dad, but also a repeated icon she sees in her day to day outings in the surrounding towns.
Originally, I thought about calling this article "Altered Reality" because of the way Kirsty’s work creates an illusion of reality using images that aren’t quite what they seem. But after hearing her story, I realise her art is more about curiosity - about seeing, questioning, and understanding the environment around her, and how that journey of observation shapes both the artist and their work.
She recalled moments from family road trips, looking out at flat landscapes and asking, "How do we know that’s far away? What is it in that view that gives us a sense of distance?" Her kids would often roll their eyes, but those questions continue to guide her. She’s always searching for clues, noticing how light changes, how colours shift, how lines blur into the distance. “You can’t capture that in your art unless you’ve thought about it,” she said. “You have to look, and really ask, ‘What is it?’” |  |
She also shared with me how poetry has played a part in her process, “There is a particular poem by A.E Housman from a collection called A Shropshire Lad. The poem is number XL and is well known. In it there’s a line…
…which always really struck me. Hills aren’t blue! Why did he describe them as being blue? That got me thinking about colour, distance and perspective and how to capture that in art. He does it in the poem with words and I want to try and do the same with collage.”
 | This, along with the story of teaching her children to observe the changing seasons through moodboards, made me think about our ancient ancestors, whose survival hinged on their ability to read their surroundings. How much sharper their sense of sight must have been as a result of this active practice. I wonder if Kirsty’s work, and ongoing practice, serves as an antidote to modern-day blindness, offering a way back to a deeper, richer view of the world. |
Just as Kirsty layers images in her art, our ancestors layered their knowledge of the natural world - each experience and observation adding depth to their understanding.
Kirsty's work mirrors this process, encouraging us to look beyond the surface and really see. Her curiosity and attention to detail are a testament to the richness that comes from truly observing our environment, reminding us that this ancient form of observation enriches not only artistic practice but also our everyday lives.