Stadakis

Stadakis

(acrylic/mixed media on board, 8x8 in)

The second of the two balcony paintings, using acrylic and collage. There are bits of a magazine page, an advertising brochure, the inside of an envelope, a paper bag from a shop in Greece, as well as a little sand. 

Very First Sketchbook (#12)

Nafplio, 2.9.87
(Fine point and coloured markers in A5 sketchbook) 

Moving on a year and onto the Greek mainland. Nafplio was briefly the capital of modern Greece following its liberation from the Ottoman Empire. I enjoyed my stay there which came at the end of a period of island hopping, but the trip was a difficult one for various reasons and I managed only this sketch. 

I didn't much care for the coloured markers - I found the colours crude - and didn't use them again. 

Very First Sketch Book ( #2 )

Monastery above Naxos 26/9/85
(Fineline marker and grey felt-tip in A5 sketch book)

After Athens I moved on to Naxos and made this quick sketch of a monastery above the town. The felt-tip was a  rather clumsy tool, I found.

Very First Sketch Book ( #1 )

Opposite Hotel Pythagorion 16.9.85 (Fine marker in A5 sketchbook)

I'm still finding a reluctance to get work done right now, but it's always been my policy to try to keep blogging through these flat patches.

Previously, I posted from my series of Old Drawings but those are all posted here now. So what I've decided to do is work my way through my sketchbooks. I've mentioned before that the sketchbook habit has evaded me over the years, but I do have quite a few sketchbooks and some of them even have drawings in them!

In 1985 I decided to try to get into the habit of sketching and bought an A5 spiral bound sketchbook to take with me on a trip to Greece. This is the first sketch I made, looking out of the window of my room at the Hotel Pythagorion in Athens. It was done quickly as I'm sure you can tell and I used a rather unsympathetic marker, but I was happy with it at the time.

I've often thought that I might use the sketch as the basis of a painting, but that hasn't happened so far.

Transformer

Transformer (Oil on board, 21 x 30 cm)

It's that period after an intensely creative spell, when I tend to roam the studio looking for something to do that won't involve too much time. On such occasions, my eye usually turns to unfinished pieces, of which there are many (too many, some may say).

Today it lit upon this remnant of a past obsession with bits of strange and possibly unsafe electrical wiring which Greece has aplenty.

So here it is finished. File it under "Oddities".

Old Drawings #28

Water Meter (Charcoal, compressed charcoal, A1 cartridge paper)

I've been to Greece so many times, that I'm not entirely sure when this drawing might date from. However, I'm opting for 1994/95, following my second stay in Nafplio in September 1994. At the time I was fascinated by walls, things embedded in walls and water meters. I still harbour an interest in things like that, and occasionally a painting or drawing comes out of it.

The thing about water meters, I think, is that they reminded me of the roadside shrines to be seen everywhere in Greece. I did make a start on a painting from this drawing, but even after chopping off part of it, it remains unresolved. I've been thinking about it again recently, though ....

Meter - work in progress (Oil and collage on board)

Broken Benches

Broken Benches (Oil on board, 13 x 13 ins.) (Private Collection)

I've been combing my boxes of photographs recently to find and record pictures of paintings which have sold. This one was sold in a solo show I had at the Gallagher & Turner Gallery in 2000 in Newcastle. Ostensibly, the show was an exhibition of images from a holiday in Cyprus, but I threw this one in because it fitted the overall look of the show. It's actually based on a sketch I did in Nafplio in Greece in 1994:





Broken Benches, Nafplio (Watercolour and pastel, A5 sketchbook)

The painting was originally the same format as the sketch, but I cut it down to a square because I felt it focused more on the benches that way. For me, it's still an example of how unpromising material can produce an interesting painting.