Sunlit Uplands

A painting conceived with energy and passion, and a sense of urgency.  Sunlit Uplands was created in southern France during my week-long residency at Studio Faire, Nérac, where I immersed myself in a garage studio, connecting ideas around environment, climate, freedom of movement, borders, and, increasingly, political concerns.

Sunlit Uplands, acrylic on canvas, approx 90x300cm (unstretched)

Sunlit Uplands, is a long painting, almost panoramic in its format, stretching some 3m across.  Sunlit Uplands is a warm and friendly phrase (often used by politicians to sell the idea of Brexit), conjuring up the best possible image of a utopian society, better times ahead and golden promises.  The painting was painted with a combination of transparent liquid paints initially, then painted into with dry brush strokes and pale, opaque colours, layering text and contrasting values together. 

At the time of painting (August 2022), the south of France was suffering the effects of its fourth heatwave of the summer, and water was scarce.  The harsh, hot summer this year had left its mark on the landscape, which looked scorched, barren and dusty, the colours bleached, pale and brittle.  I was struck by the collision of unusually hot air, tinder dry foliage, potential for fire, the snapping of parched stalks underfoot, and the shrinking of reservoirs, disappearing rivers and streams.  The scorched, pale landscape was peppered with field upon field of crispy, dead sunflowers, still facing the sun, creaking and drying out until harvest, and punctuated with bright turquoise/green algae filled irrigation ponds.

Woven into the layers of paint are partly legible fragments of text, in English and French.  Referring to Germany’s Hunger Stones, carved stones at the bed of a river, revealed for the first time this summer since 1616, during a past time of harsh drought.  The words, ‘If you can see this, weep’ are partly legible, and excerpts from the writings of a fellow resident at Studio Faire, Parisian writer Charlotte Pallieux, her powerful and highly personal words from her current book draft.

There is a lot of activity in the centre left of the painting, and walking from left to right, there is a sense of rhythm that starts fairly quietly, rises to an active and busy area, before petering out at that right of the painting.  The last ‘punctuation’ mark is a block of strong cerulean turquoise in the far-right bottom corner, bringing the painting to a full stop.

The garden at Studio Faire provided additional opportunities to interact with the landscape; there were black walnut trees, quince, vines and herbs. Interestingly there were old taps and an ancient well outside, both long dry and now ornamental. Unusually for me, Sunlit Uplands was an unstretched piece of canvas, portable and malleable to be rolled for the journey home (its working title was actually Journey), and allowed me to move the painting around the studio, working over different surfaces and in changing light. At one point, in the studio, I was working over a join between stone and old floorboard, picking up traces of texture in my brush marks form the surface below. The fabric and history of Studio Faire is in this piece.

Exploring the painting outside was an interesting exercise in ‘seeing’ it in a different context, in the natural light, and amongst grasses , trees and external structures. The colours were enhanced by the summer light in southern France, and it has occurred to me to repeat the exercise here in Yorkshire, perhaps in the woods, to explore the idea of context further.

Next blog - new pieces generated by my experiences at Studio Faire

Looking Out - The role of observing, collecting, exploring and recording…12 hours of looking.

Setting off on my art residency, by train, from Halifax in Yorkshire to Nérac in the Lot-et-Garonne area in France, I acknowledged that my decision to travel overland by train, meaning that the research phase of the experience started from the moment I stood on the platform that morning.  Perhaps fifty percent of the creative process for me is about observing, gathering, collecting, and collating, but just simply looking at one ‘view’ of the landscape never seems enough.  An overland journey of this length gave me a rare opportunity to spend quality time observing, absorbing and thinking, whilst moving through the different landscapes and ‘socialscapes’ of Northern England to Southern France. 

Foremost in my thoughts at that time, was my recent trip to west Cornwall and the colours, light and texture from the farthest southwest of England, coupled with the political quagmire, and looming economic/social disaster that we are facing right now in the UK.  The journey, from the platform of the 7.10am to Kings Cross, to the doorstep at Studio Faire, offered so many interactions with different aspects of the landscape, of rural north and south, open fields, rolling hills, vast flatness, suburban decay/prosperity, inner city seediness, and, importantly, human and cultural interactions of every kind. 

Visually, it was a rich experience and there was much of note.  From an artist’s point of view, the changing colours, textures, light, weather conditions, flora and fauna, were more obvious, but also there were clues in the landscape that revealed the different social fabrics and unevenness of wealth distribution across the north/south.  For example, the remains of derelict brick structures outside the stations at the beginning of my journey in the UK, which, under grey moody skies and drizzle, spoke of former industrial grandeur and enterprise, long gone and not repaired. Beyond these structures, left, right and centre, are newer buildings, juxtaposed over the decades since, disjointed, detached and somehow bolted onto the old.

Some observations looking outside from the train passing through the UK…

Galloping horses in a field, speeding away from the passing train

Lone man in the middle of a field, black trousers, white shirt, no dog

A second lone man in a field, no dog

A boarded-up station window, a sign ‘Grand Central’

Overgrown/abandoned sewage works

Neat stacks of pale gold hay bales

Stubbly, shorn, white yellow stalks, harvested fields

Dusty, cracked fields

Deer in a field x 4

Still pond, reflections

Heron

Egrets x 2

Trees

Pale yellow ochre, burnt sienna, pale cerulean blue-sky deepening to ultramarine up high, Payne’s Grey skies, fading sap green

Buzzard soaring on thermals

In Paris, emerging from the Metro at Montparnasse (from the Gare du Nord), there was a large fire, with tall lashing flames, blazing and growing alarmingly fiercer, outside the station.  Looking through the glass wall in silence were a few spectators, travellers stopped in mid-transition.  There were no sirens, no pompiers, hoses, and it was eerie and quite frightening – the recent summer wildfires were still smouldering in the south, the smoke even present in Paris at their height.  This sight had a profound impact on me as I turned and headed off in the direction of the trains once more, worrying about the fire spreading as my train quietly rolled out of Paris.

Fire, Montmartre, Paris

Reflections, movement, light, ghosts

The next leg was a swift, efficient high-speed swoop to Bordeaux, a stop off overnight at the Hotel Particulier near the Gare St Jean.  Over a salad and a glass of red (when in Bordeaux…), I reviewed my 8 pages of notes, drawings and scribbles.  The landscape in the southwest was different, dry and rural, but interspersed with striped fields of vines, and, really interestingly, lines and lines of perfectly ordered trees (possibly firewood farms?).  I’m certain the harsh, hot summer this year has affected French produce, and the landscape looked scorched, barren and dusty, the colours bleached, pale and brittle.  I was struck by the collision of unusually hot air, tinder dry foliage, potential for fire, the snapping of parched stalks underfoot, and the shrinking of reservoirs, disappearing rivers and streams. 

More observations…

Tall, thin trees, planted in neat lines

Vines also planted in neat lines

8 white birds flying over the vines

The Loire, Gironde and Garonne rivers, all wide and brown

Big, wide, pebbly, dry riverbed, revealed

Parched, scorched fields

Rows, lines, grids, order…

Language, communication, words…

Hotel Particulier, Bordeaux…

I haven’t mentioned the political aspect of my movement from England to France, but the fallout from Brexit was at the forefront of my thoughts as I travelled.  It was hard not to compare the differences in our infrastructures, public transport, roads, prices, quality of fresh produce, and of course the freedom in France to move throughout the Schengen Area in Europe without restriction.  Making/breaking connections with our European neighbours generated thoughts of: connections/bridges/links/tunnels/tracks/roads/borders/fences/doors/barriers/beaurocracy/politics/checks/cutting/racism/humanity/friendship/nationalism/fear (and fascism?).  These issues are all tied up with economics, society, culture, and the current political agenda, both nationally and globally. 

I had been deliberately quite open about my project at Studio Faire, and much has changed in my practice since I applied in 2019.  Arriving in Nérac, my notebook full of observations, I creaked open the studio shutters and hit the ground running.

Next blog – the really exciting bit; exploring, experimentation, new colour palette, discoveries, live broadcast…

A little of what came next…

Disclaimer - taking photos from a moving train is not the best way to get good quality photographs…