Aire Point

2014-05-14 17.29.29 HDR
Aire Point, Acrylic on Linen, 10 x 10 cm., May 2014

I’m sorely in need of an input ‘top up’ to make much more progress in this series.  That seems likely to be some way off although I do have a short trip to the far west of Pembrokeshire early next month.  I imagine something of a different coastline though, having never been there before maybe I’ll be surprised.  I’m putting in a proposal soon for the opportunity after the summer vacation period to spend some more time back in the area that has prompted this Cornish Coast series.  Meanwhile its good to have a pause this week and next for the following week its degree show preparation.  Best ‘gird me loins’ for those three days as they are likely to be fairly hectic!



Despite a headcold…my first this winter so I’m not complaining now its April…I made some progress on completing the first tranche of these small ‘Cornish Coast’ paintings. And given that I keep moving the goalposts on this project I’m quite happy with what’s been achieved. This is one of the first that I’ve completed to this 25 x 20 cm format – Nanven – and inevitably I am begining to feel an urge to disrupt the set of conventions I’ve set myself with the series. Whether and what I’ll do to do so I’ve as yet no idea…so I’m likely to be as surprised as anyone else.

Funny Old Business

Irish Lady
Irish Lady, Acrylic on Linen, 10 x 10 cm., April 2014

In fact plain peculiar sometimes…for instance it’s taken me ages to make this tiny little painting.  Fiddling around with the various bands of colour and adjusting them and so on.  At the same time in the studio I’m covering around 330 times the distance in a morning…mind I may do that half a dozen or more times before the big ones are finished with.

More Cornish

Armed Knight, Acrylic on Linen, 10 x 10 cm., 2014
The Peal, Acrylic on Linen, 10 x 10 cm., 2014
Carn Kez, Acrylic on Linen, 10 x 10 cm., 2014

More of these small, quite informal pictures that draw their inspiration from both my early days as a student and the area in which I studied.  I’m enjoying the freedoms that come to you when you let go of any pre-conceptions of what you ought to be doing and/or what others might expect you to do.  The pleasure of colour, particularly when you start out with a fairly standardized formal arrangement (in this case a really loose ‘proscenium’), is quite exhilarating sometimes.


Sometimes I just don’t get it…like now for example.  I want to update the Harrington Mill Studios exhibition blog, and as part of that, move the old posts on the main page into another page within it…but for the life of me I can’t figure it out.  Maybe it’s just really hard but probably its a few keystrokes if you know how…

Gamper, Acrylic on Canvas, 30 x 30 cm. Feb. 2014

Best stick to daubing coloured mud I suppose…


Peber (Cornish Coast), Acrylic on Linen, 10 x 10 cm., 2014

In stitches this morning…listening to William Shatner‘s take on Bohemian Rhapsody etc.  But whilst painting it has to be (mainly) instrumental so taking a leaf out of my wife’s book it’s been Eno for the past hour or two.  Am cracking on today after a few days teaching or prep for it.  In winter it’s good to have some smaller works to work on at home…not that (so far)  it’s been a bad one – for me the jet stream is a blessing keeping the far colder easterlies away (and thus the snow).  So I’m making hay with this Cornish Coast series and starting in on a new body of work that is picking up on a set of boards I began working on back in 2009 but abandoned and stored until earlier in the year.  

Last Thursday was very helpful too…not least with these current pictures.  Though I was disappointed not to be at the opening of Painted Thought in Cardiff (a journey too far this week past) it was great to be able to attend the discussion and opening of Landscapes of Space, Paintings and Prints by Tess Jaray.  The artist was in conversation with Richard Davey and this well structured event provided plenty of food for thought about the differing ways in which picture making come about and how the past fifty (!) years has impacted on both the ideas and  practice behind them.   My first encounter with her work was in the book ‘Private View’ that I poured over in Wheaton’s bookshop in Exeter in 1965 (as a 14 year old there was no way I could buy it) and it made quite an impression…the painting illustrated, St. Stephen’s Way, is in the gallery now.


And for me it was this earlier work that had thoughtfully been assembled in the smaller of the two main gallery spaces (at the Djanogly Gallery, Lakeside Arts Centre, University Park, Nottingham)  that resonated most strongly.  These paintings made in the early 1960’s were crafted imperfectly (acknowledged by Jaray in the discussion) but it was the minor imperfections (or more likely the deliberate and/or ‘happy’ accidents) from the occasionally slightly wonky symmetry to the blips on the taped edges to the imperfections in the canvas weave that added a real ‘kick’ to these works.  It is these hand crafted and registered modulations alongside an unerring eye for perfectly balanced colour decisions and the obvious delight in Italian architecture as an imagery source that made these really delightful paintings that pretty well stand the test of time.  In the bigger main space we were treated to a large body of recent work that whilst showing the same faultless judgment for colour and a continuing fascination for spacial enquiry was for me less forceful – in the main because of their construction.  This came up in the discussion, in that these new works utilise laser cutting technology, and whilst the artist herself acknowledged that new technology is a ‘two edged sword’, these pictures had a smoothness that I can’t get over-excited about.


The large and cavernous third gallery (a most welcome additional space in this, the best of our regional venues I think) was given over to the prints that were the result of a fascinating and rewarding collaboration that the artist had with the writer W.G. Sebald.  Let me declare myself here – like many artists nowadays I am a Sebald obsessive so anything I say is slathered in rather uncritical admiration.  And in this instance green with envy (like many others I suspect) as I came late to the work (courtesy of my friend the very talented Christopher Matthews) in 2008 some time after Sebald’s untimely death.  The book that resulted works really well, the ‘poems’ (that are rather more akin to short text extracts or aphorisms or haiku’s – you can never define his work as anything other than ‘Sebaldian’ really) are juxtaposed with Jaray’s images selected impeccably and arranged with immense sensitivity that offer a purely visual counterpoint to text that is somehow both indexical and narrative at the same time as very abstract.  They offer quiet and complementary spaces to ponder both image and text.  In the gallery framed and given ‘landscapes of space’ they looked elegant and sober but maybe just lacked a little of the intimacy of the book though when I go back (away from a preview) I may feel differently.  In any event I was made up when the artist very kindly signed my copy that I had taken along!  A very rewarding night out – cut along there if you can by 27th April.