As a 24-year-old female artist and recent Fine Art Painting graduate from the University of Brighton, I’m at the very beginning of my professional journey. The Dover Prize would be a vital opportunity to step into this new artistic phase with time, space, and support to reflect, explore, and grow.
I’m eager to establish a foundation for a long-term, sustainable career in the arts. I want the freedom to take creative risks, test new ideas, and see where they lead independently, outside the structure of formal education.
If awarded the Dover Prize, I would use the funding to secure a dedicated studio space, which would be transformative for both my working process and mindset. I would also use the bursary to purchase materials as a material and process-based artist using new and obscure materials helps me to take risks to find new ways of working.
In life, I seek out discomfort. How else do you discover what you like if you have never risked trying it? Painting follows that same impulse – walking the line between control and chaos. Sometimes it doesn’t work. But sometimes it does, and it can lead to a new body of work.
Sometimes I feel like a scientist, can I add wax to my paint? Powders? Sand? Gravel? Glue? Are there any rules when it comes to paint? Can I add the paint detritus of my studio floor to new paint? The paint wrinkles, cracks, shrivels, I ask myself, can I replicate that?
After the intensity and support of university, I’m looking to connect with artists, mentors, and collaborators—people who can challenge and inspire me as I build confidence in my direction. I would love to get involved in local projects, workshops, and events, and contribute to a shared artistic dialogue.
The Dover Prize represents everything I need right now: support without pressure, structure without restriction, and an invitation to grow with ambition and curiosity. I’m excited by the unknown, open to new ways of working, and ready to shape a practice that’s authentic and forward-looking.
As a painter based in the Southeast of England, I currently have no roots in Darlington, but that’s why I see this as an exciting opportunity. I believe fresh perspectives can bring new energy, and I’m keen to connect with the region’s creative artist community.
If selected, I would actively engage through studio visits, exhibitions, and events, to contribute to the visibility of contemporary painting in Darlington. I’m especially interested in sharing the early stages of a post-university practice, showing that female emerging voices can have a place in shaping the local scene.
I also want to create opportunities for emerging artists like me by starting an art publication to showcase artists and exhibitions locally and nationally. This could be a great prospect to create a network for artists of different backgrounds to engage and collaborate. I want to help create spaces where process is visible and creativity feels accessible.
By bringing my practice to a new region and embedding myself in its networks, I hope not only to grow personally but also to positively impact the profile and energy of the arts in Darlington—helping to forge links between regional and national conversations in contemporary visual art.
My paintings are just so me. I control the material, and the material controls me. There’s a balance, an equality. I can lie, but the painting can’t. Everything is bared on the surface, even if I wanted to conceal it. Layers of paint cover what could have been, what was known, evolving into something unapologetically honest. Paint misbehaves. It drips. Should I cover that? I could fix every mistake, but I don’t. I want to be surprised. I want to be disappointed. I chase the adrenaline of pouring paint over something that might already be finished. Will I ruin it, or will it come alive? Like life, painting requires discomfort. You only know what you like by risking what you don’t. Sometimes it fails. That’s fine. I can paint over it I experiment. Wax, glue, powder, gravel—paint scraps from the studio floor. It wrinkles, cracks, shrivels. Can I replicate that? The imperfect surface becomes fragile, almost unstable. Tools like screwdrivers and saws become extensions of my body, both connecting and distancing me from the canvas. The process is physical, my hands ache, solvents sting my eyes. The act of painting often overtakes the image. Texture can be seen, heard, even felt without touching. I return to familiar shapes, like my stripy rainbow t-shirt that people say is either ‘garish’ or ‘high fashion.’ I wear it anyway. It’s me. Or the circular road markings I count on my walk daily, unnoticed by most but etched into my routine. These forms, when deconstructed and rebuilt become equivocal. The stripes are playful. The spots are camp. They are honest. They are mine. Paint becomes a tool to define something too arbitrary to name. Is painting analogous to being? I am currently exhibiting in the University of Brighton Degree Show. Earlier this year, I exhibited in Size Doesn’t Matter – But That’s Probably What Ellie Told Ross After Seeing His Brushwork at Phoenix Art Space, and in July 2023 I curated and exhibited in Dylan Does What Dylan Wants. You Can’t Rush Ross. Has Anyone Seen Ellie? at Gallery 40, Brighton.
I have a BA Honors Degree in Fine Art Painting at the University of Brighton.
I have recently been nominated for the Freelands Painting Prize 2025. I was also longlisted for the Jacksons Art Prize 2025.
Yes, I have recently been published in the 13th edition of ROSA Arts Magazine.
Email: ellie.sargant@live.com
Address: Dechmont, Borers Arms Road, Copthorne, Crawley, West Sussex, Rh10 3lj, GB
Local Authority: Midsussex
