Here’s something a little different, a
landscape that’s not really a landscape.
This is ‘Pink Waterlilies in Sunlight’ – it’s quite a large painting, 26
x 32, with a beautiful classic white gold frame.
Here's the photo that I used as the material for the painting.
I’ve been visiting glasshouses and exotic gardens for
decades now, as there’s something really fascinating about the abstract shapes
of plants – cacti, succulents, the shapes and reflections of leaves on
water.
I’ve painted in the cactus
gardens in Barcelona, the glasshouses at Kew in London, Duthie Park in Aberdeen, the Botanics in
Glasgow (the orchid house was a particular favourite), the lilies in the ponds
in Central Park in New York and the glasshouses at Edinburgh. Wherever I can
find them, in fact. When I was starting
out painting, I used to go twice a week to the Botanics in Glasgow to study the
plants and paint , and the rest of the time to Kelvingrove to draw the animal
specimens, even being allowed access to the collection in the basement.
Painting plants is a discipline, as it is all about
observation – something which was very much drummed into my biology science
class at university. You need to constantly
look, and observe. To understand the
importance in art of knowing the basic principles of design in the natural
world and botany, I’ll point you in the direction of fellow Glaswegian,
Christopher Dresser .
Of course, it’s a bit of a cliché to paint waterlilies –
Monet managed it so much bigger, more extravagantly, more audaciously than
anyone else could possibly ever do. Of
course, he had the money, and the estate, and six gardeners, and a diverted
river to feed his lily ponds, and exotic plants bought in, and vast canvasses
and giant studios and good weather. And
the talent. No-one is ever going to top that.
But there is still something fascinating about watching the
patterns changing on the surface of things, of the reflections and the light
and the colours. You are painting
exactly what you see, but it is all about abstraction and pattern-making, as
there are no longer the usual reference points for reading the painting, a lack
of easy means of measuring distance and depth. You are looking down at the sky. It is a world of invertions, where nothing is
quite as it seems.
In the photos, I have included at the end some of my
paintings of waterlilies from 30 years ago, along with a sheet of botanical
drawings. I have few photos of early
work, which, because they are studies, lie in piles in my studio,
unphotographed.