Sunrise

Sunrise. Oil on canvas, 900 x 600 mm, June 2020

Sunrise
Oil on canvas, 900 x 600 mm
June 2020

Titanium White,
Chrome Yellow, Cadmium Yellow, Indian Yellow,
Yellow Ochre, Raw Sienna, Burnt Sienna, Raw Umber,
Indigo, Alizarin Crimson.

My Little Red Rooster

My Little Red Rooster. Oil on canvas, 16 x 22 inches, June 2020

My Little Red Rooster
Oil on canvas, 16 x 22 inches
June 2020

A rewarding little quickie.

Indanthrene Blue, Alizarin Crimson, Burnt Siena, Yellow Ochre, Gold, Indian Yellow, Chrome Yellow.

Photographed while still wet, hence the shine.

Fata Morgana

Fata Morgana (Gold Diggers). Oil on canvas, 910 x 610 mm. June 2020

Fata Morgana is Italian for a mirage, a complex optical phenomenon that is said to mislead desert travellers and seafarers alike. As a matter of fact rather than folklore and fairy tale, a Fata Morgana is most commonly seen in polar regions, according to Wikipedia.

This particular one mislead nobody but afforded me a pleasant Sunday doodling with a paintbrush.

Fata Morgana (Gold Diggers)
Oil on canvas, 910 x 610 mm, June 2020

Fresh Off The Boat

Fresh Off The Boat (Parallel Universe Series), oil on canvas 800×300 mm, April 2020

Fresh Off The Boat
(Parallel Universe Series)

Oil on canvas, 800×300 mm
April 2020

In fond memory of The Mooring, Rarotonga and with certain liberties with the specifics of Mahi Mahi.

It pleases me that the photo cannot possibly capture this little piece, which reacts with light and your viewing angle in ways that I can’t capture in a still shot.

Esmeralda

Meet Esmeralda.
Oil on canvas, 20×16″
April 2020

She isn’t a masterpiece by any stretch of imagination, but she’s the first oil painting that I manage to bring to completion (by some stretch of imagination) in a very long time. As such, I consider her a huge success and hope that she won’t be a one-day wonder.

Paul

Paul

Paul.

Oil on canvas, 760 x 500 mm (30 x 20″), October 2018

There is no reason behind the choice of name except for the fact that Paul seemed a perfectly suitable name for a magic seahorse. 

The Western Hemisphere

The Western Hemisphere

The Western Hemisphere

Oil, turpentine and gravity on canvas, 1000 x 1000 mm

Indigo, Phthalo Turquoise, Indian Yellow, Cadmium Yellow, Alizarin Crimson, Titanium White.

The fourth and last of the large hemisphere paintings. Obviously I was running out of steam with this one although I hope that it will grow on me over time. It certainly has a lot of cosmos to explore!

The Eastern Hemisphere

The Eastern Hemisphere

The Eastern Hemisphere

Oil, turpentine and gravity on canvas,
1000 x 1000 mm

Indigo, Alizarian Crimson, Indian Yellow, Cadmium Yellow, Titanium White

This became a lot more violent than envisioned, but somethings life is that way.

The Northern Hemisphere

The Northern Hemisphere

Oil on canvas, 1000 x 1000 mm
Phthalo Turqoise, Titanium White
January 2018

A new style and good fun. I am certain this one doesn’t work very well on the screen; you really need to see it in the wild due to its size. It’s quite a sight and we love it.

 

 

Naxos Triptich

From left to right:

Naxos in Anticipation
Naxos As We Found It
Plakos (What We Saw From Naxos)

Oil on coarse sack cloth, 500 x 200 mm approx.

These were painted before a 2017 trip to Naxos (“… in anticipation”), after our return when the colours of sky and sea were swapped (“… as we found it”), and what we actually saw from Naxos (Plakos, the neighbouring island, and the most beautiful sunsets).

These are quick paintings on coarse sack cloth. Held against a window or a light source, these are almost invisible see-through things which emerge as a painting only when viewed against a wall. I like that effect.

Saint Pierre et Paul Rosheim

Saint Pierre et Paul Rosheim

The humble sandstone is trickier than I thought, but here it is: the lovely 12th century church of Saint-Pierre-et-Paul in beautiful Rosheim, Alsace, France.

Detail view.

Oil on canvas, 900 x 600 mm.
August 2017

Pinch To Zoom And Rotate

Pinch To Zoom And Rotate

Oil on canvas, 900 x 600 mm
March 2017

Certainly not a masterpiece, but my best self-portrait so far.

That’s what happens when watching too much of Sky Art’s Portrait Artist of the Year competition on the telly and close-up during production in London’s most excellent Wallace Gallery.