acrylic and oil on canvas, 50 x 50 cm.
White crocuses with chinooks, oil and acrylic on cradled panel, 41 x 30 cm.
In early March chinook helicopters were doing war games/practicing/low flying around us for a couple of weeks. With what has been and currently still is going on between the US and Israel and the UK and Iran and the whole of that area, it felt very menacing. Being an old hippy I painted flowers – the crocuses I put under the front grass last autumn had come up and the white ones were especially beautiful.
One day in February I received 12 tiny hellebore plants in the post and spent the afternoon in my tiny greenhouse potting them up and the evening painting this event in watercolour in my A4 sketch book –
Potting up hellebores in the greenhouse, oil over acrylic on collaged canvas, 60 x 50 cm
The watercolour translated a little later into this painting of the winter garden, the winter gardener and the US bomber which is being allowed to use our airfields to reload these terrible weapons for an illegal and inhumane war. See, I am still against war.
Even if it’s a lie, oil on collaged canvas, 50 x 50 cm.
is it a bird? no it’s a B52 bomber taking off from the UK to go and bomb innocent civilians and commit war crimes, refuelled and refilled on a UK airfield. the person in the greenhouse looks up at the sound of it the daffodils and all the plants in the garden have runny weepy paint.
Back then I was trying to develop a practice which countered the male gaze somehow. Painting was not fashionable, political and ideas based painting even less so, most feminist work was conceptual, Jenny Saville was not known at the beginning of the 90’s.
These photos are from catalogues and art journals that my work featured in.
Here is an article I wrote for Versus magazine, a journal produced by two history of art post-graduates in Leeds. One was Heidi Reitmaier, then on the Women’s ArtHistory MA course at Leeds, and she became a good friend.
My installation of 6 paintings was selected for East International in 1993
Which was quite a coup.
Part of it toured round the UK, and it got a good notice from Adrian Searle in the Independent newspaper, which mentioned me by name.
Coincidentally two other artists from the North East were selected, and we all taught at Sunderland University in the Art Foundation department.
From this I ended up with a solo show at Bradford’s municipal gallery, Cartwright Hall, in 1996, and the curator, Steve Manthorp, applied for a grant to produce this very nice catalogue, with an essay written by Heidi Reitmaier.
I am very grateful to Steve and to Heidi for this.
Copies went to university libraries around the country.
So maybe my work had some effect on other young artists!
It was quite radical for Bradford I think.
Showing in the same building at the time was a collection of PreRaphaelite tapestries belonging to Andrew Lloyd-Weber, and a show of delicate almost miniaturist paintings by the Singh Twins, Amrit and Rabindra, now with MBEs and plenty of recognition, unlike me! I was too radical, and earning a living as a knitwear designer and being a single parent with a mortgage, certainly got in the way of pushing my painting career.
In January I started painting these moths and writing poems about them.
in watercolour at first, all very soft
The spruce carpet. oil on canvas 30 x 24 cm.
The poems all got erased as although I love writing on other paintings, as in Daisy Paris, and Anselm Kiefer, it wasn’t working for me in oil, even when I cut the poems to one or two short lines.
On paper, hardly legible, I like! Red swordgrass, watercolour in A4 sketchbook.
M O T H , oil on collaged canvas 80 x 60 cm.
At Christmas I did some figure paintings of Lucy in watercolour, as I had been given a little watercolour kit by them. Then I painted this oil when I got home, on a canvas 61 x 61 cm. Very much in the Christmas spirit. In fact all the fireworks in the background are the Marimekko curtains which are actually forest green and are full of owls and squirrels and such like creatures.
For Hogmanay they went to stay in Florence with an art historian friend on a residency there, who was living in a flat “stuffed with too much furniture” but the furniture was rather decorative; I was sent some photos of the celebrations and very taken with Lucy in this chair, wearing a dress I made her for a birthday present.
from which the watercolour and this little oil on panel, 25 x 20 cm, came.
This is Lucy taking a selfie in the mirror to show me the gold trainers she was borrowing from Marika to wear with the dress I gave her, from my Japanese designer (Mina Perhonen) stash. Again, the furniture takes on a life of its own. And the background is quite abstract in parts, all the layers welling up to happily partner with the dress and the furniture. Oil over acrylic and pigment on collaged canvas, 80 x 70 cm.
Sometimes after getting quite intense over a painting (the shoes – the feet, it took me ages to get the size right) it’s great to let go and do something really loose of the same subject. I only feel that freedom with watercolour, so this is in a sketchbook.
oil on linen, 132 x 121 cm
I think Molly Bullick might have liked this one, it has a lot of writing on it, never as beautiful as her non-but-almost calligraphic paintings.
I had been revising this poem, so it has became an apt memorial . For a multi-skilled artist who was never content with one way of doing things, architect, printmaker, jeweller, dyer, stitcher, painter.
Tìr nan Óg (for Molly)
The young in one another’s arms, birds in the trees,
William Butler Yeats, Sailing to Byzantium, 1927
we raise our antlered heads
speak our minds
not against
not yet baptised, going
deep under –
there our
deer-son, doe-daughter
headdresses lie
in the clear lake in spring
edged with water-crowfoot
singing swans
volume depths down with bubbles
caught
we were always living near water
here our footsteps follow
we inventing old freedoms lost
we choose, we are hostage
checked in
advisable declared
all heroes
naked in the west
blowing in
always beneath the clouds beyond
skirted with rain