lost painting

I must be brief today. Guests arriving tomorrow and so there’s linen to be laundered and dried, beds to be made up, wood for the stove to be got in and animals to be fed.

When we stayed with our friends Sue and Howard in Oxford last week, we re-discovered a little painting of Tretower on their walls that we’d lost track of and subsequently forgotten about. In fact there was quite a lot of work in their house dating from my early days as a painter, and from before that an example of my stage design work with an asymmetric drop-curtain designed for the musical Little Shop of Horrors. (Sue had been on the stage management team at Theatre Clwyd when we first worked together, and I gave her the drawing in thanks for all her hard work on the production.)

Peter photographed everything of mine on the walls of the Oxford house, and no doubt some of the works will gradually emerge on the Artlog. But for the moment, here’s a very small painting of Tretower posted at a fairly low resolution. The painting was made in acrylic ink, intended for use in the cartridges of air-brushes, though excellent I discovered when worked with brushes. Not sure what the title of this is as we forgot to photograph the label on the back.

Interesting to see a technique here that I evolved especially to make the most of the qualities of acrylic ink. It wasn’t at all like working in watercolour. Some of the colours available at the time were transparent, more like stains, whereas others were densely opaque. The medium being very wet, sometimes the colours flooded the paper and needed to be left to dry before any more work could be undertaken. You can see a graininess in the sky that was the result of  the slow drying of a medium in which the pigment became visible, swirling in elegant eddies and flourishes as the liquid evaporated. Difficult to control, but magical when skill and practise rendered the process manageable. With the darker colours it was possible to leave them until sticky-dry before scratching through to the under-painting with the handle end of a brush, and the sgraffito at the left side of the composition was achieved by this means.

It took me a couple of years to master acrylic inks, and candidly I never saw anyone else handle them with much success other than by way of  the manufacturer’s intended use of the colours in air-brushes. The results I achieved with brushes looked like no other medium I know. Painters were always asking me what I’d used and how I’d made the paintings, but if they afterwards went off and purchased acrylic inks to see whether they could achieve anything similar, I never saw the results. It really was the hardest medium I’ve ever attempted, and after that, oil and acrylic paints seemed easy. There are many transparencies of work I carried out in the medium, and one day when we’ve transferred them to digital, I’ll post images and you’ll see how different these early paintings are to what came later. They were all quite small as the inks were just too difficult to handle on a large scale. The only reason I picked them up to begin with was because I thought the colours appealingly vivid, though the range was very limited. And once I’d acquired the colours, I felt that I had to use them, no matter how challenging they were.

You can see another painting made in acrylic ink HERE.

ty isaf in the spring

Our week away has seen big changes in the garden here. Rain has watered the parched soil and brought forth myriad bulbs and buds. A brief canter through the grounds today, to illustrate the progress of Spring.

Black hellebores, now in full bloom. As dark and velvety as ripe plums.

The first of the snake-head fritillaries.

Early bumble bee.

My favourite daffodil, Tête a Tête. This compact variety loves to clump, and the resulting massed flower heads are glorious.

The first azalea to bloom has the soft blush of a wild dog rose.

The ever-present jack.

Snaky spires of Euphorbia.

Spring personified. Ty Isaf gets ready to display tens of thousands of daffodils.

ceramist anita mills…

… has been preparing for her exhibition at the Craven Allen Gallery in Durham, N Carolina. However  at the last moment, just as she was photographing a particular vase, she recognised how influenced she’d been by the Saint Kevin and the Blackbird paintings she’d seen in my studio when staying at Ty Isaf last Summer. She wrote to me:

“Clive, as you know, I’ve been preparing for a gallery show for the past couple of months.  Recently, push came to shove, and I was up against a serious deadline—the work was due to the gallery the following Monday morning. I worked most of Sunday finishing pieces that were promised to the gallery. I was ‘in flow,’ as they say, and spent time on a tall cylinder form which I had covered with silver encaustic medium (a combination of powdered fine silver, beeswax, carnauba wax and damar varnish).  I was sorting through found objects I had collected for inclusion in assemblages, when suddenly it occurred to me to turn this double-bound, organic wreath upside-down over the top of the vase.  Then, I reached for a gray, agate egg (purchased last summer in Wales at a jewelry shop in Machynlleth) and balanced it precariously on the edge.  Tired, but satisfied that I had one more piece completed for Monday’s delivery, I went to bed.
Yesterday morning, as I photographed the work before taking it all to the gallery, I had this vessel in the viewfinder of my camera and it suddenly struck me. This piece is completely a response, albeit a subconscious one, to your recent studies and paintings of St. Kevin and St. Francis.
The birds, the wings, the nests, the eggs—images which I do not usually employ—have infiltrated my brain, and come out through this piece.  Before this, I have worked with feathers, in homage to birds, but never so literally have I used the iconography of birds as in this one.
How, I wonder could I have been so oblivious to any connection with my studies of your recent St. Kevin and St. Francis paintings and drawings?  The mind is truly a strange thing.  I guess one could say ‘in through the eyes, out through the hands’. What do you think of this?”
What I have to say to Anita is “Wow!!! This is a really entrancing ceramic. I don’t think that I had much to do with it save on a very subliminal level, but hey, I’m happy to take a little credit for such a beautiful piece of work!”
You can see an interesting and illuminating short documentary about Anita HERE.

exhibition opening at the martin tinney gallery

There were times I felt this exhibition was never going to happen. But of course it did and all was well. Martin Tinney and Nick Yarr greeted guests and kept the event running smoothly while gallery manager Myf and assistant Catrin manned the busy sales desk. The four worked tirelessly.

Here are some photographs of the occasion taken by our friend Philippa Robbins.

Many friends who I see all too infrequently thronged the gallery. Some travelled extensive distances (and back on the same night) in order to be with us. Here Peter is talking to the artist Mary Husted (her back to camera) while Meri Wells and I, clearly delighted to see each other, are about to heartily embrace. (Meri is a ceramic artist whose work can be seen at her website linked from my blogroll.) In the background John Gibbs is studying a collection of drawings from Equus.

William and John Gibbs listening intently to the artist. I have no idea what I was holding forth about. William commissioned The Virgin of the Goldfinches from me when he was 2009 Art Purchaser for The Contemporary Art Society for Wales, and his brother John has recently been instrumental in arranging a commission I’m about to start upon, The Woman Taken in Adultery, for The Methodist Art Collection at Oxford.

Our friends the two Davids. (David Lewis facing and David Robbins with his back to the camera.) David and Clarissa Lewis surprised us by coming all the way from Aberystwyth for the occasion, and moreover brought Meri Wells with them. Anne Wolf and her daughter Sarah made the trip too. (Had we known there was to be such an exodus from our own patch we would have organised a coach!) Our friends David Rowse and Enza Burgio made the epic journey from Essex, which was certainly well beyond any call of duty on a Thursday evening when they both had to be back for work the following morning, and Peter’s sister Sally caught the train from London in order to be present.

Peter and I stayed with Dave and Philippa Robbins at their home in Penarth for most of the week. Jack came too, by Philippa’s special request! Just over David Lewis’ shoulder is Gareth Davies, who together with his wife Sonia cared for Jack when Peter, Dave, Philippa and I were in Berlin in January. It has to be said that our dog has as busy a social life as we sometimes do!

Dave Robbins chats to his daughter Oonagh and her boyfriend Mark. At right Peter is speaking to our old friend the opera singer Eric Roberts. (Eric and his wife Angharad have the lovely Moli, who mated with our own Jack and produced a beautiful litter of puppies.) Present too were Eric and Angharad’s son Osian and his wife Edita, whose wedding Peter and I attended in Czech last year. The young couple’s baby daughter Eira made the third generation of the family at the opening. Definitely our tiniest guest, and beautifully behaved.

Three much-loved friends. At left is Rosemary Burton, wife of the esteemed Welsh artist Charles Burton and herself a wonderful painter. (See Rosemary’s work HERE and Charlie’s work HERE.) Centre is Jane Phillips, doyenne of puppetry and founder of the much-missed Cardiff-based Caricature Theatre Company, where I went to work when I was fifteen and a half. At right stands Ann Morris, a fellow performer at the Caricature Theatre and later a muse of mine when I became a theatre director. You can see her HERE at the extreme left of image, playing the Fairy Godmother in my production of Humpty Dumpty. Ann originated the role in Cardiff, and then played it when the production transferred to the Dominion Theatre in London’s West End. She changed costumes and wigs for every scene and made her first entrance riding side-saddle on a unicorn the size of a shire horse. I don’t think any fairy Godmother in a pantomime has ever had a more magnificent wardrobe. It was my gift to her for being so perfect in the role!

The photographs show but a very few of the guests who turned up on the night. The Private View ran for nearly three hours and the red ‘sales stickers’ proliferated. It was all most enjoyable and well done. Later Martin and Nick took us for supper and the good conversation continued late into the night. Two days on and we’re back home at Ty Isaf, exhausted. (Jack is exhausted too!) Time to catch up with some sleep.

annunciation news

It’s all Annunciation matters today. First of all here are some rather good details Peter took of  Touched, just before the painting went off to the framers. You can click on the lower one to see a large version.

And another Annunciation painting, The Virgin of the Goldfinches, is to be hung in Llandaff Cathedral in Cardiff in time for Easter. I’ll post photographs of it in situ once it’s gone up.

once upon a time…

… and in a land far, far away…

… I was a theatre designer.

A few months ago I promised some Artlog visitors that I would dig back into the ancient past and post images of designs I had made for the theatre. I have grave reservations about this, but I did promise. So here are a very few. I fear that the designs can only be shown rather small, as I have no high definition versions of the sketches. (Pre-digital snapshots from my old stage-design portfolio, the original designs for all the productions I worked on having without exception long gone, mostly given away to cast members.) The designs are for a pantomime… a uniquely British phenomenon… that I co-wrote, designed, directed and choreographed back in the early 1980s. Humpty Dumpty was produced by the New Theatre Cardiff. The sets and costumes were made in the workshops of the Welsh National Opera and the Bristol Old Vic. Four photographs here, all relating to the character of The Queen of the Night (the villainess) and her boar-headed Henchmen.

Queen of the Night costume sketch (Collection of Newport Museum and Art Gallery)

Boar-Headed Henchmen to the Queen of the Night costume sketch (Private Collection)

Mr Derek Rutt as The Queen of the Night

Royal Premiere. HRH Princess Margaret meeting the cast of Humpty Dumpty. Centre image, Mr Ronné Coyles as the Queen of Hearts and Mr Derek Rutt as the Queen of the Night.

 

taking my lead from jack…

…I’ve decided to have a little rest from work.

Rather than risk compromising the last painting I’d had in mind for the exhibition (Tobias and the Angel) I’ve decided instead to take a break from my easel. See a few friends, run some errands, walk the dog and tidy up the studio. I need to wind down before the gallery Private View, otherwise there’s the likelihood that I’ll be too tired to enjoy the moment. This afternoon I printed editions of the two Saint Kevin lino-cuts I prepared a couple of months ago, and when they were done I decided to call a halt to any more work. I’ll be back in the studio soon enough after Touch has opened, and so now is the time to relax.

I found the following photograph to post here . It’s the solitary sunflower that grew in the garden last year and provided the model for those in Touched and Kevin and the Sunflowers.

annunciation diary day fourteen: naming the painting

The votes for the title of the Annunciation have divided pretty equally between Annunciation with Sunflowers and Plummet. I liked them both for different reasons. Beth was persuasive in favour of the former and Philippa made a really good argument for the latter. Marly Youmans felt that both were good and either would serve well, but then offered her husband Mike’s suggested title of  Overshadowed. And so Overshadowed it was going to be, until Peter came down to breakfast this morning and said…

“Why don’t you just call it Touched?”

Touched

… and that’s just what I did. I hope no one is too disappointed. Thank you so much for taking such a lively interest in the painting, and for entering into the spirit of  naming it. Given that the exhibition is called Touch, the title of the painting will now put it at the heart of  things, which seems to me be to be right.

Tobias and the Angel is up on the easel. I’ve made progress today but I’m too tired right now to know whether I’ll be able pull this last one off in time to deliver it to the framer in Cardiff next week. If I can then that will be great. But if I can’t I’m not going to beat myself up about it. I’ll have done my best and that must suffice.

Today the Artlog has beaten its previous record for hits. Moreover … and quite coincidentally… Peter has just pointed out  that this is my hundredth post on the site. I started it as an experiment, not at all sure whether it was something I either  had time for or particularly wanted to do. It was certainly only ever intended to be a temporary glimpse into the studio to show some work in process. A ‘pop-up’ blog.

However  in practise it’s been illuminating for me too. Your  encouraging comments and thoughtful questions have made it all far more lively and enjoyable than I’d anticipated. The upshot is that I intend to continue with it. I’ll be keeping things going with daily posts up until and including Monday. After that I’ll be taking a break for a few days until after the Private View of  Touch. But then it will be business as usual in the studio as I get working on a commission to paint The Woman Taken in Adultery for the Methodist Art Collection, produce an altarpiece for Saint David’s Cathedral as part of my residency for the Music Festival there this Summer, complete a body of work for my dealer to take to the 20/21 Art Fair at the Royal College of Art in the Autumn and make a suite of lino-prints for a volume of poetry by Dave Bonta. And paint two book covers for Marly Youmans. Not to mention all that has yet to be done for my sixtieth birthday retrospective at the National Library of Wales next year. Work in the studio is not about to let up. So please do keep dropping by to see how it all unfolds.

annunciation diary day thirteen: finding the title

Tomorrow should see the completion of the painting. Then comes the final important decision as to what the title will be. I have two in mind, quite different from each other. Should any readers feel moved to prefer one above the other, then your comments may contribute to the outcome. The two titles are:

Annunciation with Sunflowers

… and Plummet.

Your views will be most welcome. So will any suggestions alternative to my own. (Might this be turning into a competition?)

annunciation diary days eleven and twelve: sunflowers

Gradually the Annunciation garden takes shape. I started planning sunflowers for this painting when I was working on the earlier Kevin and the Sunflowers. (We had one giant sunflower appear in the garden here last year, the result of an escaped seed from the bird feeders I would hazard. All the drawings done in preparation for the two paintings were made throughout the life stages of that single specimen.) By clicking on the image you get a higher resolution version, and clicking on that will give you a highly detailed close-up. The heart of the flower at bottom right is achieved using a technique of sgraffito, scratching through the top layer of paint when dry to reveal under-painting. A different quality can be achieved by scratching through the top layer of paint while still wet.