green and red

The first of these paintings was made as a test. Did the tempera block paints that we had selected for the children at school; turquoise, ultramarine, vermilion, crimson yellow and white, allow them to mix the colours they needed. With the addition of black ink the answer was yes.
The paint is a bit wilful though. When the colours dry they change – so every stage is a slow reveal. Layers disturb one another so you have to find ways around that too. But the economy of choice is liberating and the gentle defiance of the paint creates a healthy friction to work with. It is like trying to get a memory to coalesce.
The experiment has become a series of paintings based on photographs I’ve taken over the years. The photographs are a record of the quiet poetic spaces that tend to catch our eye – even while we attempt the grander business of living with purpose with people we love. They are like a pulse beating behind the action and somehow come to stand for the moment more than a grinning selfie could. As they accumulate and I look over them I know the depth of significance that they have for me – and I know too how freely they will slip away from it. They are paintings of light and bubbles and water vapour and air. The stories will vanish but maybe the quiet space in them will continue to resonate.

: Hampton Court

: Hampton Court

: Teignmouth to Dartmouth 2024

: Painting from a restaurant in Mount Abu Rajasthan where Art Deco meets kitsch meets Indian opulence.

: A bedroom painted in the vivid blue of Jodhpur city with patterned red and brown blankets and cushions folded and piled on the bed in contrast to the black and white geometry of the marble floor tiles.

: The view from the cool blue interior of an Indian train to Jaisalmer out onto the golden Rajasthani desert landscape as it rushes by as a blur.

: This boat standing in an area of swamp by the Thames, has been converted as a home and carefully patched with sheet aluminium giving it the appearance of a kintsugi repair.