Clive Hicks-Jenkins

Saint Kevin and the Blackbird - Clive Hicks-Jenkins

Nothing has to be a particular colour any more than it has to observe external laws of perspective. Rather, a painting is a world apart with an internal logic created by the painter. It is one thing to know this, and to accept it in the work of earlier artists, but quite another to do it yourself. Such is the nature of education now that children routinely copy pictures by Van Gogh or Picasso, often painting a bit each then putting the pieces together in a wall-sized collage. The belief seems to be that they will thus acquire a shortcut to the methods and insights of those ground-breaking artists. On the contrary it's like putting down the answer to a mathematical problem with no idea why, except that someone more mathematical than you has told you the answer. Until you understand through repeated practice and experimentation how and why to break rules, even the unwritten ones, all you will be as an artist is a facile imitator.

Rex Hartley (from What is a Still Life in Clive Hicks-Jenkins)

Clive Hicks-Jenkins is one of my recent discoveries. I first came across his very interesting blog, then followed on to his website and finally bought the book about his life and work. The book contains 11 essays about various aspects of his work, including paintings, drawings, and book illustrations and is well worth reading.

I was particularly taken with what Rex Hartley had to say about the use of colour, which I've quoted above. As he says, "It is one thing to know [that colour in painting can have it's own internal logic] but quite another to do it yourself." I have to constantly remind myself of this.

Shop News

Wee Scotland Shop (Oil on canvas, 12 x 12 ins)

Things are very quiet here, as you must have noticed. I'm doing a lot of reading and thinking as what passes for the summer goes by, but not much in the way of painting. I suppose a rest is a good thing and will no doubt prepare me for some kind of Great Leap Forward.

Meanwhile, I've learned that this painting has been chosen as the "Editor's Choice" in a national magazine (more on that in due course). As I thought this might be of interest to the Di Rollo Gallery where the painting is on display, I sent them an email. By return I learned that, coincidentally, the painting has sold.

Suddenly, the rain outside seemed to take on a rosy glow.

New Citibase Show

This new show at Citibase by the Newcastle Artists Society opened on Friday. I have four works on display and it was quite rewarding to watch people at the private view spend some time looking closely at them:


Rooms & Mannequins (Oil on canvas, 40 x 40 x 4 cm)


Paintings & Prints (Oil on canvas, 40 x 40 x 4 cm)


Breakfast & T-Shirts (Oil on canvas, 40 x 40 x 4 cm)


Rugs & Icons (Oil on canvas, 40 x 40 4 cm)

Look for me on the fourth floor staircase.

Starting up again

Edinburgh Churchyard (work in progress)

After a week of sitting on my laurels, last Friday I began another Edinburgh painting, only to have to leave it to go to a private view at the wonderful Art Noveau offices of Opus Art in Newcastle. And what an interesting evening that turned out to be! I'd been invited to the opening because April Jarocka had some of her lovely paintings of chocolate bars included in the show, but she hadn't told me she'd be there herself. What a delight, and a somewhat surreal one at that, to finally meet someone I've only known through emails and websites.

On Saturday, Pat and I went to Edinburgh again, this time for the private view of the Festival Exhibition at the Di Rollo Gallery. It was a good opening, with a decent flow of people in and out (including a science fiction fan I've somehow never managed meet in my 45 years of involvement in the field), but the weather turned inclement and I think that made the supply of people eventually dry up.

No sales on the day.

Pat and I decided to go for lunch in Stockbridge and then wander along Princes Street, but as the rain became heavier we were starting to feel not a little damp and uncomfortable. Back on the late afternoon train, we found the rain had been even heavier in Newcastle. I do so love a British summer.

Lights! Camera! Action!!

Today marks my first entry into the world of movie-making.

My partner Pat has been involved in the filming of a new movie, Song for Marion. Starring Vanessa Redgrave, Terence Stamp and Christopher Eccleston, the plot revolves around a community choir. As she's in a community choir herself, Pat was auditioned for a part in the film's choir and was accepted.

Since then it's been work, work, work and I've hardly seen her, but when you're a movie star, that's just the way it is.

And today I get to play the part of a member of the audience at the choir's performance. I'm getting into my character now .... but I won't let it change my life.

Saturday in Edinburgh

For various reasons I ended up going to Edinburgh on Saturday, despite the Private View being next Saturday. It gave me the opportunity to see my work framed and on the wall, without the crowds I'm hoping for next week getting in the way.

I think they make a good display and should attract buyers, but what do I know?

The best part of the trip, however, was catching up with my old mate Jim Barker, whom I haven't seen for 30 years. We had a great day out in an unusually hot and sunny Edinburgh and it seemed like not a day had gone by since we saw each other last, although the amount of catching up proved how wrong that was.

Private View

Silver Hills

Silver Hills (Fountain pen, coloured pencils, A5 sketchbook)

At a bit of a loose end following the intense period of making the Edinburgh paintings, I found myself looking out of the study window today. For the first time in the twenty years I've lived in this house, I decided to draw the view across the Team Valley to the Silver Hills.

Chambers Street, Edinburgh

Chambers Street, Edinburgh (Oil on canvas, 12 x 12 ins)

I am not interested in 'copying' what is in front of me. I find copying pictures very useful and enjoyable up to a point, but copying nature is a different affair. It is, at best, a dull occupation, though I much enjoy using a camera, and find photographs of people and places a good jog to the memory and they can see and record things in a fresh light, or an aspect that had not struck you before.

John Piper (The Artist and the Public, published in Current Affairs No. 96, 2 June 1945)

I quote this for a number of reasons, the first being simply that I admire John Piper's work a great deal and am always interested to read something he said. I suppose another reason is that - justified or not - this painting reminds me a little of Piper. More than anything else, however, is that although I use photographs as source material, this is not what Chambers Street looked like on the day I took this photograph. The details of the structure are more or less accurate, but the whole thing has been filtered through my imagination (and the filters of Photoshop) to bring me closer to what I felt said something to me about the place (and in passing, about colour).

The same process was applied to all of the Edinburgh paintings.

Deacon Brodies Tavern

Deacon Brodies Tavern (Oil on canvas, 12 x 12 ins)

Deacon Brodies Tavern is also on the Royal Mile and it's another I haven't been in. I must make more of an effort in future.

Wee Scotland Shop

Wee Scotland Shop (Oil on canvas, 12 x 12 ins)

This fine emporium of .... Scottish memorabilia and ... um..... tartan stuff is on the Royal Mile leading up to the Castle. I think peculiar little shops like this help to make a city human.

Jekyll & Hyde

Jekyll & Hyde (Oil on canvas, 12 x 12 ins)

This pub is on Hanover Street, not too far from the Di Rollo Gallery. Amazingly, I've never been inside.

Evening, Hanover Street

Evening, Hanover Street (Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm)

Paint what you see, not what you know, is a useful maxim and one I usually subscribe to. So why did I question the way this painting was going? Because I didn't believe the evidence of my eyes, or at least what I could see in my own photograph. I knew the spire in this view was a long way behind everything else, so I wanted aerial perspective to make it fall back.

When I went to Edinburgh again recently, I made a point of looking at this view again and again and sure enough the visual weight of the spire (which appears to belong to The Hub) is such that it really does force itself forward. So finishing the painting turned out to be far easier than I'd persuaded myself it would be.

In my report of the research trip to Edinburgh I neglected to mention the very warm welcome Pat and I received when we called in at the Di Rollo Gallery. A special expedition was launched to bring in a supply of very good biscuits and wine and coffee flowed. We really enjoyed what was intended to be simply a brief "hello".

Pub No.2

Second Pub (work in progress)

Late last night I decided I needed another Edinburgh pub painting. This is the result. It's moved along quite nicely, so I'm confident it can be finished in time to take them all to the gallery on Saturday where they'll be framed.

Shop Work

Shop (work in progress)

Some corrections and redefining on this painting today. One of the dangers of buying relatively cheap Chinese canvases is that they're not always perfectly made. In this case, I realised yesterday that the canvas is not a true square. It's slightly off-square, enough to throw some of my earlier work out of square too.. I reckon I've put that right today and when the canvas is framed, there won't be anything amiss.

More Pub Work

Pub (work in progress)

An hour or two today moving this pub painting along. Forget what I said about one painting being more difficult than the other. In fact, this is likely to prove the more difficult, whereas I thought the shop painting would pose problems.

It was unfair of me to ask you to say which would be the difficult one and even more unfair to ask you to say why. The actual reason is because the photograph I have of the shop is full of people milling about in front of the door and downstairs window. Luckily, the Interweb managed to fill in the missing information for me.But you weren't to know that. I think I was just talking to myself out loud.

The Race is On Again

Pub (work in progress)



Shop (work in progress)

The race in the title is a race against time, of course. I have just over a week to complete my pictures for inclusion in the Di Rollo exhibition, if I want them to be framed by the gallery.

Pat and I spent a day in Edinburgh last week collecting material for paintings but I've had trouble with my printer which insists on printing everything far too dark. Eventually I had to resort to having my photographs printed professionally but this meant some delay in getting started on the new work.

Nevertheless, here I am now with two new small paintings begun of a pub and a shop in Edinburgh. One of them may prove more difficult to complete than the other. Can you guess which, and for what reason?

In the South Tyne Valley

In the South Tyne Valley (Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm)

The second of this pair of paintings from the South Tyne Valley.

South Tyne Valley Landscape

South Tyne Valley Landscape (Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm)

Looking round the studio yesterday, I noticed how much the study of landscape has occupied my time recently. I never thought I'd say that, but I suppose it's due to a shift in perspective and a realisation that over time I've amassed quite a store of reference material not related to towns.

Boating Again

Boat with Pines (work in progress)

This is a painting of a little boat moored near the marina at Trogir in Croatia. My plan today was to finish off the small painting I began last week, but before I did so, to start another so I'd have something to keep me going when the small one was done.

As sometimes happens, however, I got so absorbed in this new boat painting that I just keep going until it was time to go home. So now I'll have two to finish off next week

89 Cornwall Street

89 Cornwall Street (Oil on canvas, 145 x 180 mm approx)

My recent excursion into working to commission worked really well, I thought, so I was interested to read John Salmon's blog post, Commissions? No thanks, in which he recounts the awkward progress of a commission he undertook and the increasingly bizarre items he was asked to include.

John's article reminded me that the Holy Island commission isn't my first commission. The painting shown here was done as the result of a commission I was offered in October 2006. The proposal looked promising. As one of a group of artists, I was to paint a "portrait" of the headquarters of a financial services company. The resulting work would be hung there, a brochure would be printed to include all the works and prints would be shown in their offices round the country. No extra payment for the prints, but I was content that my work would be seen widely.

I accepted and completed the painting using photographs provided by the commissioning agent (who was not the client), shipping it off in November 2006.

By December I learned that the client had decided to postpone printing the brochure until the following March, but I would be contacted in the near future for a written perspective on my work to be included in the brochure.

By July 2007 nothing further had been heard and I had yet to issue an Invoice (foolish me). The commissioners told me the project was still on hold but that I should issue my invoice direct to the client. I did so on 10 July.

I issued a Statement in August and followed that with a letter later that month.

On 4 January 2008 I sent a new Invoice and Statement to the commissioning agents, arguing that my contract was with them rather than the client and asking for payment within seven days.

That did at least shake things up, finally. By return of post my Invoice and Statement came back with an apologetic letter, suggesting that "the confusion may stem from a changeover in staff" at the client's offices.

Payment arrived from the client on 9 January 2008.

It might be argued that I should have been more proactive in chasing up the payment, but this was my first experience of a formal commission and was unsure of how things worked. I also had other problems in my life. The most annoying aspect of it is that I rather enjoyed carrying out the work and had hopes that it might lead to similar commissions. The whole episode depressed me and I put it out of my mind. Even the original photographs I took of the painting have disappeared - the one shown here is taken from the inkjet print I attached to the Invoices.

[Later: A trawl of the Internet shows that the client company went into administration in May 2008, after allegations of "financial irregularities." and was sold shortly afterwards. A history of the business, following the arrival of the man whom I was told in January 2008 had all of the pictures, makes fascinating reading. I don't know where he is now, or where my painting might be.]

Four Balconies, Crete

Four Balconies, Crete (Oil on board, 12 x 12 ins)

Saturday's not usually a painting day for me, but while Pat's away having fun in London, I thought I'd press on with Finishing Off. Here's one I don't seem to have touched for just over three years. Maybe it's because I've strengthened my colour sense in the intervening years, but today it moved along very well. Well enough to reach completion, in fact.

Oh, I do like it when things go well, don't you?

Clubbing

Riverboat (work in progress)

Today was my first real afternoon of painting in the new Club premises, and it worked pretty well. I thought it might be too crowded and maybe a little stuffy, but there was only a handful of people there and the extractor fan was working efficiently.

I settled in quite quickly and the very small new painting I'd sketched out on an old piece of board cut from another painting went remarkably smoothly. In fact, had I not needed to go shopping, I could easily have finished the picture in one go. As it is, there's really only the river left to work on.

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".

A Good Day Out

Saturday was a very satisfactory day. The Holy Island pictures were lined up for the client to choose one and - gratifyingly - the choice proved difficult. She liked all of them for different reasons and waited until it was time to go before making her choice: Evening, Holy Island.

At which point I got a pleasant surprise. Her father decided to buy Orange Sunset, Holy Island.

If you're reading this, Cat and Laurie, I hope you get many years of pleasure from your paintings. Many thanks for commissioning this project and ultimately for choosing the works you did.

Four Skies - Holy Island

Orange Sunset, Holy Island (Oil on canvas, 12 x 16 ins)


Evening, Holy Island (Oil on canvas, 12 x 16 ins)


Sunset, Holy Island (Oil on canvas, 12 x 16 ins)


Clouds over Holy Island (Oil on canvas, 12 x 16 ins)

The plan was to finish these yesterday, but like many of my good plans, things got in the way, so I was forced to work on them today with the likelihood of their not being dry by Saturday. And Saturday is when they're to be shown to the client.

The bad news is that it was a gloriously hot sunny day today and I had to work in the studio. The good news is that I was able to stand them outside in the garden where the sun made short work of drying them perfectly.

These photographs are not colour perfect, I think, but they're close enough. I wonder which one she'll choose tomorrow. Which would you?

Apocalyptic

Holy Island 4 (Work in progress)

Today's work on this painting puts me within one day's extra work to finish all four Holy Island Skies, which is very satisfactory. I have to admit that this painting isn't easy, but I think my recent visit to the excellent exhibition of John Martin's apocalyptic visions helped me along.

I thought the Martin exhibition was wonderful. I was familiar with the few paintings in the Laing's permanent collection, but wasn't prepared for the huge later works and the terrific use of colour. I'm convinced now that his daring use of colour was the equal of his contemporary, Turner. If you missed the show at the Laing, try to catch it at Tate Britain.

North East Art Collective

Did I mention I'd been investigating a new (to me ) gallery in Newcastle? No, I guess not. Last week, in an idle moment, I wandered into the North East Art Collective's gallery in Eldon Garden Shopping Centre where I had a good conversation with John Thompson, the owner.

Long story short, yesterday I took in six paintings to be hung in the gallery. John's background is in business rather than art, but he's determined to promote the artists of the north east and I have hopes that he'll do well in that respect. He's an outgoing talkative man who I think customers will take to easily.

And One Makes Four

Holy Island 4 (Work in progress)

It's time to return to the Holy Island sky pictures and move them along, but I always feel three in a series is never enough, so yesterday I began a fourth.

The plan is to complete all four by the end of the week, so over the next few days they should all be appearing here. Watch this space.