This is a winter painting whose origins however were an autumnal walk along Withins Way, the path that leads from Hale Village to the ancient fording place on the Mersey, at the river’s southern narrows where the county of Lancashire tentatively meets Cheshire at Runcorn.
The Cave Dweller
At this time of year, the sound of autumn is for many characterised by an elusive chattering and ticking from deep within the thicket or hedge. The call of the Wren, explosive in its nature, belies its tiny size and is a hint to why for many thousands of years it has held an elevated position in the hierarchy of birds. It is the King of the Birds, celebrated on St Stephen’s Day, the ubiquitous companion to wood and garden and a master-singer – familiar to all.
As its taxonomy suggests the Wren in this painting is indeed the cave dweller, an axiomatic form that also has a peculiar and wonderful resonance with the early Russian iconographers. The full voice of the bird is summoned from the darkness.. by the leaf of autumn, the bud of spring or the unfurling clouds of Heaven.
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The Megalithic Shore
The shoreline is littered with sculpture; cast concrete and complex shapes in brick, the ensemble carefully assembled by the vagaries of time and tide. Only in walking a landscape and spending patient hours in pencil, pen and ink is one party to the quiet dignity of an otherwise chaotic scene.
Oglet Stones no.2 (2016) Pen and ink on watercolour paper, 42x29cm
The whole always seems purposeful, and the location particularly enigmatic given its proximity to the busying world that lies within easy reach. The triangular pyramids bind the detritus of the shore in both a practical and poetic sense. They are modern era megaliths, a fitting addition to the heady ritual landscape of the south Liverpool shore.
Pen and Ink, 42x29cm (2016)
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Epiphany of Hale Marsh
The yellow stalks of the marsh reeds shake in the wind in late winter. This landscape is hidden, yet in plain sight. For those who have witnessed it, no introduction is needed. The gloomy skies and a biting wind will be all too familiar.
It is the 6th January and the arrival of the kings, or indeed the coming of the King, is being broadcast to the silent marshes by the bubbling, liquid trilling of Carduelis Carduelis. No one listens.
60x60cm, Acrylic and Reed on Canvas.
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The Oglet Stones
Only the passage of time gives us the privilege to see the glimpses of light that linger yet from the War years. In all the terror of industrialised slaughter comes an occasional passive ingenuity and creativity that is a counterpoint to the darker sides of man’s nature. We stumble across these as if groping in this darkness, from the strange beauty of the dazzle ships to Hepworth’s hospital sketches.
Casting in concrete has been used both by artists and the military. With the luxury of peacetime comes the conceit of seeing the division between these two makers blur, so we can appreciate the abstract forms for what they are now as well as what they were intended for. Thus, the tank traps scuttled on the north bank of the Mersey are powerful abstract forms in 3 dimensions, sculpted by wind and tide and creating some remarkable forms.
Oglet Stones No. 1
Captured in pen with the ruins of the brick shelters they line the beach like bleached whalebones, scattered in the debris.
Pen and Ink, 21x29cm (2016)
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