Saturday, February 29, 2020

UDESC exhibition: Paisagens Catarinenses - Santa Catarina Landscapes

*



Forest, Praia Mocambique, December 2019
 oil on card, 24 x 29.5 cm, framed






 Eight of the fourteen paintings, mainly from the island of Santa Catarina.





Eight pictures




The lighting is not perfect. I would also prefer not to have to glaze paintings, as they reflect.
 But that is not a realistic option in such a public space with a lot of human traffic.





This exhibition of fourteen pictures opens on Monday and stays up for two months.

I will post more images of individual framed pictures anon.




*


Wednesday, February 26, 2020

A shadow on a table

*





A shadow on a table, oil on card, 13.5 x 16.2 cm - unavailable





*

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

One of the rooms in which I live

*




A view into a bedroom showing a table and shelving,
oil on card, 13 x 17 cm -  -unavailable





I think an important aspect of Boice's approach is that one does not immediately act upon disappointment, which is so often -perhaps usually?- a corollary  to ones own creative efforts. One lets that disappointment sit and coagulate in the mind into a sort of resolution overnight.

An aspect of my approach is that it includes repetition. The idea is that one confronts monotony. The risk is that one creates it.



*

Sunday, February 23, 2020

Plants, a chair, a keyboard, wires, bowls and pots; Robert Boice and working processes

*



Plants, a chair, a keyboard, wires, bowls and pots
 oil on card, 18.5 x 15.5 cm - unavailable





I am experimenting with very contained periods of work- exactla an hour. The idea here is that one will not tire for the next day, and that one will learn to work more efficiently, swiftly.



Boice and A Working Method


I am an efficient worker. I`ve almost never had creative block. But I was reading a review of Robert Boice`s Professors as Writers: A self-help Guide to Productive Writing, and thought it might be fun to experiment with some of his principles.

To summarise, he is rather sceptical of "inspiration" and believes that writing should be the product of daily sessions, which should neither overrun nor fall short of, their alloted time. 

 My time is exactly an hour and my process is as follows: I work on ten pictures,  one after the other in a rolling sequence. Thus, I work on the first for approximately two minutes before moving onto the second, and then the third and so on, until I reach number ten and then I return to number one.

This allows me time to view each picture afresh, and allows the paint time to settle. Also, it forces me to suspend judgement over pictures, so that I don't immediately jettison or revise works that might at first appear unsatisfactory.  This way my critical instincts are held in check for at least 18 minutes. 

At the end of the session I look over the pictures, and usually discard the one or two obvious failures. Then, over the next days, I look over them again, getting rid of more: usually I keep one,  sometimes I keep few. 



*

Saturday, February 22, 2020

Two cacti and a succulent with shadows on a table

*



Two cacti and a succulent with shadows on a table
 oil on card, 14 x 16 cm unavailable




 I return to black and white work. I like the lack of showiness in monochrome, the austerity, and potential for subtlety.

 I am wonder how I might do black and white work when travelling. Maybe it would be difficult to translate into a street or landscape situation? It is rather contemplative. The wider world might be too disruptive. I will investigate...




*

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Praia Mocambique, pines, February 2020

*




Praia Mocambique, pines, February 2020
 oil on card, 23.5 x 29.5 cm





*

Another trip to Chile?: Patagonia

*


From the Stamford Library Series Map, 1912

Patagonia, and deciding where to go


The area is so vast, it seems almost an arrogance to attempt to visit and claim to be painting it.

 I`ve enjoyed the containment of my picture series: attempting in various series to explore places, often with re-visits. Ergo, I`ve been attempting to revisit places to augment existing sets (especially New York, Peru, and Scotland) and hesitant about beginning new sets.  

Revisiting a place is fascinating, making one extremely conscious of the extent to which ones subjective attitudes affected previous visits- what seems strange no longer is, what was grand now bores, and what strikes one as banal on first sight becomes fascinating with later visits. And there are seasonal changes too. Also, initial visits disproportionately involve a tick-boxing of tourist sights, which is time consuming, and just making sense of its layout, figuring out how to get from the hotel to the central square, and so forth. 

But it is nice to feel that I am extending myself at least a little, so when I went to Chile I decided to visit the area around Araucania and a little south, believing that this (admittedly timid) exploration would provide sufficient new inspiration. Indeed this was the case.

So perhaps the thing is to get to Puerto Montt then continue down the Carretera Austral (Southern Highway) stopping here and here on the way, and ending in O`Higgins. That`s 1200 km. It still seems overambitious, but provides at least some of the notion of a containment that I find so necessary, and avoids too much travel by boat, which I detest.

This site below seems to contain all the information one might need to plan a trip: 





*

A trip to Chile: Santiago

*



Marin, Bario Italia, oil on card, 21.5 x 25 cm - available




Santiago


I stayed in Barrio Italia, a neighborhood of turn of the century villas and more recent, terribly over-sized blocks, which have an "anyplace" quality. However, the neighborhood is quite attractive in a self effacing way, with tree lined avenues and some small cafes. My picture is from one such street. 

However, there is a problem in Santiago, notably air pollution. Pollution is so bad that after a few hours wandering around I started to develop cold symptoms- a runny nose, a headache and watering eyes. The city could be quite a good cycling city as it is fairly flat but only if they find a way of dramatically improving air quality.

The centre of the city has rather been taken over by protest. There are anarchist posters, some rather striking, around the university but the monuments around the art museum are also heavily defaced and the effect is not attractive. 

Talking generally, almost all graffiti is profoundly depressing: the blunt egoism of the maker, the imposition on public space, the destruction of architecture, the sense of lawlessness that it creates and, usually, its usual utter mediocrity.




*

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

A trip to Chile: Puerto Montt and Puerto Varas

*




Puerto Varas, motorcyclist, oil on card, 23.5 x 23.7 cm unavailable




Puerto Montt and Puerto Varas


Puerto Montt is a ghastly place: quite filthy, with abominable architecture. It straggles round a bay then crawls over some hills behind. The place reminded me of Brazil in its crappiness but it has colder weather. The shops are full of rubbish and everything is covered in graffiti. Unhealthy young men hover along the sea promenade like so many stray dogs.

The buildings of most interest- the unusual wooden neoclassical cathedral, and the Gothic church above the town- are both inaccessible: the first because it has been boarded up to avoid damage from the ongoing protests (as have almost all the major buildings, giving a wartime atmosphere to the place); the second because it is in the grounds of a private school and, no, the porter does not have a key to allow access. There is also a colourful theatre, but it was closed.

In the town square was a rock band making a brutish noise. I couldn't find anywhere trustworthy to eat so I went to the Macdonalds. Yes, I appreciate that some might find irony in that sentence.  The windows had, of course, been boarded up, so it was like sitting in the hold of a ship. There were a few black people there and I thought that the town had many more black people than I had seen in other places in Chile. 

Later that evening I went to small concert in the art centre which was nicely performed by some hippies, including a pretty singer with a prominent overbite. I wondered how such people could live in Puerto Montt, they seemed so refined with their cellos and mandolins . There were eight people in the band and eight in the audience, including me.

It was dark after the concert and I was worried about getting robbed- like many ports the town has this underlying atmosphere of violence. Besides, protesters, masked and dressed in black, had begun burning stuff in the town square- a filthy smoke drifted about. 

To get around the town you can use shared taxis which you flag down in the street, and I took one back to my bed and breakfast.which was in a slummy area above the town, an area desolate with rubbish strewn here and there and where some stunted trees suffered ceaselessly under a continual wind. My bed and breakfast was run by a couple who were at first solicitous and friendly, then over-solicitous and over friendly, to the point where I began to feel oppressed at breakfast. Anyway, these taxis feel more intimate than buses, and stop where the passengers ask, so you end up sensing this closeness with the others in the car as you hear their voices softly give instructions to the driver and discover where they live. 

Somewhat disturbed by Puerto Montt, I chose to spend the next day in Puerto Varas, a much smaller and considerably more upmarket town on a lake just to the north. I went by bus, as did an evangelical preacher who stood at the front of the bus preaching the entire fifty minute journey.

Well, Puerto Varas is not especially interesting for more than an hour. And all the restaurants there are extortionate. In one of them I ordered an extremely expensive sandwich from a pimpled adolescent with an apathetic manner.  But the lake views in Puerto Varas are pleasant, and I did a good painting and spoke to some Danish people.

I know it sounds weird but I must confess that although I found Puerto Montt vile in many ways and wouldn't recommend it to anyone, it did impact me in a peculiar way akin to affection. I am drawn to shabby awful places, I don't know why. 



*

A trip to Chile: Valdivia

*



Valdivia, a residential street, oil on card, 23.5 x 28.6 cm
(picture since damaged and discarded)






Valdivia is rather a jewel, hilly, with lovely coloured iron buildings and a beautiful river. There isn`t much to do there, really, but it`s very nice to wander around in. I stayed in a very nice place which with it`s high ceilings and old wooden fittings, sometimes brightly painted, reminded me of interiors in Edinburgh. The weather was cool.

 The town is quite friendly.

My picture takes something from children`s book illustration. The town has sometimes a certain toy-town feel.


*

Thanks to Eugenia for chaperoning me in Valdivia.




*

Monday, February 10, 2020

A trip to Chile: Melipeuco, part 4, a road

*




Melipeuco, a road, an itinerant, oil on card, 29 x 23.5 cm SOLD




One of the most successful of the trip- though I must say that I`m happy with the work overall. There`s a big van Gogh influence here, of course, and maybe also something of Gillies. 

It`s funny how sometimes pictures just come together, at other times the thing limps along. It`s quite unpredictable, even after years of working.





Sunday, February 9, 2020

A trip to Chile: Melipeuco, part 3, late afternoon

*



Melipeuco, late afternoon, oil on card, 21.5 x 24.5 cm - sold





*

Saturday, February 8, 2020

A trip to Chile: Melipeuco, part 2, a mountain

*




Melipeuco, a mountain, oil on card, 28 x 23.7 cm
(picture damaged and discarded)







*

Thursday, February 6, 2020

A trip to Chile: Melipeuco, part 1, a misty day

*




Melipeuco, trees and shrubbery, oil on card, 23.4 x 19.4 cm  unavailable





Melipeuco,a misty day, oil on card, 18 x 24.6 cm




These are the first from Melipeuco, which is a small town, close to a national park and not very far from Argentina. I`d come here again: it`s varied and pleasant. 

The weather was perfect. I had a bike to get around on.





*

Saturday, February 1, 2020

A trip to Chile: Pucón, part 3, views just outside the town; travel and oil painting

*




 Pucón, a hill, farms, oil on card, 24 x 30 cm- available through No 31 Gallery

This is one of the more successful of the trip. The larger scale allows for greater fluency. 




Oil painting and travel


A month trip, two sessions per day, is a good concentrated period to work through ideas about painting. It's a good time to learn about a place. I find that a longer trip tends to lead to some sense of exhaustion, a need for recuperation, for experiences to sediment and pass through filters. I work very well if the weather and location are kind. But I have never extended the trips beyond six weeks. 

There is also the lugging things around factor. You need no more clothes for two months than you do for a week. But with the paintings you will need to take more protective carriers so wet pictures can be transported safely. Oil paintings such as mine, which are thinly painted and pretty well without impasto need to be packed individually until a week has passed and then they can be packed together. Inevitably something gets damaged- it's wise to incorporate something of Wabi Sabi into your mental armory.

For me making art is better done alone. Human social needs and creativity can combine in performance arts such as theatre. But, for me, with landscape painting- at least the romantic landscape tradition that I am involved with- social needs and creative necessities sit in different zones. But it would be nice to have company at mealtimes, of course.

I had a thought that going all the way down, adding another month to reach Patagonia, might have rewarded me. The long thin shape of Chile cries out for a linear trip from hot desert at the north down to icy mountain in the south. But the costs would have become hideous: Chile is not a super-cheap option like Peru or Bolivia: a single room in in a budget place is about 25$. 

A separate Patagonia trip is on the cards, however.








 Pucón, a lane with children, oil on card, 28 x 21.7 cm -discarded



In retrospect, I find this picture a little overworked. I liked it at the time and perhaps I'll come back to liking it.






 Pucón, big blue hill, mist, oil on card, 19.8 x 23 cm discarded






*