Tag Archives: Aberlady

Forest of Luffness, painting progress 6

Above: In progress – First of June. Forest of Luffness 3. Oil on 12 x 12 inch wood. Rose Strang 2024.

It feels good to be getting into the swing of a series for the first time in a while. I’ve created three so far in this First of June series, though today’s panting does need a bit more work ..

A bit more definition would help the painting and a few tweaks on the faces. The figure I’m happiest with is that of Terry Ann Newman (in the foreground with her back to us). Terry is the Deputy Director of the Demarco Trust and a very talented artist, when she finds time to paint. She’s holding a mobile in her hand behind her back, and it’s part of this series that we’re recording and witnessing the day in our different ways – there will be more of that.

I think I’ve managed to capture the feel of Richard’s detemination and physical struggle. I remember on the day in question I was a bit worried Richard might not want to walk the path to the Carmelite friary, because at 94 walking has become a challenge and the path required struggling over uneven ground in a forest for about ten minutes. Richard was characteristically determined however! He took great delight in the dappled light, the architecture of the stonework protecting the effigy and many other aspects of the day.

I think it was partly that he’d been inspired by my description of the ruined Carmelite friary near Aberlady but also, on the day, he was telling us about Pope Pius II who in 1435 walked barefoot in the snow all the way from Dunbar to Whitekirk to give thanks for his survival from a shipwreck in the Firth of Forth.

Whitekirk is just a few miles along the road from Aberlady and apart from the church, St Mary’s (which dates back to the 11th century) it also has a beautiful two-story stone building that served as a hostel for pilgrims travelling from Iona to Lindisfarne. Aberlady was an important stop on the way. After Aberlady and our visit to the Carmelite Friary, we also visited St Mary’s.

Readers of this blog might remember I took part on Landscape Artist of the Year a couple of years ago. It was fairly pointless escapade, frankly, except for meeting some nice folks (the other artists) one of whom was called Gregory Miller (artist website Here). He recently sent me a link to a film called No Greater Love, about a Carmelite Convent in Nottinghill, London.

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It’s worth a watch if you’re curious about their lifestyle. The footage and camera-work is Vermeer-like at times – capturing the natural light from windows and candles. It’s very, very quiet for the first half hour, then we get to know some of the nuns, what inspires them and why they’ve taken on this way of life.

It’s viewable on Amazon, not sure where else  …

No Greater Love

More painting tomorrow.

Autumn Exhibition

Above – Aberlady Shorelines III. Oil on 8×5.5 inch wood in oak frame. Rose Strang 2024

I’m delighted to be exhibiting these small oil sketches, framed in oak, at The Limetree Gallery this October. If you’re interested in the paintings, or would like to reserve one, please contact the gallery for details.

The Limetree Autumn Exhibition launches on the 24th October at Limetree Gallery, Bristol

Here are a few photos I took with my mobile today, showing these lovely oak frames, then below those – at the end of this post – are more detailed photos of all the paintings available for the Autumn Exibition at the Limetree Gallery, with titles and sizes.

These paintings represent the start of my Aberlady-inspired series this year. They were quick oil sketches designed to capture the atmospheric solitude and moody colours of the east coast in winter, such a contrast to my later paintings of Aberlady in June this year! More on that tomorrow…

In the meantime, here are all the paintings, below, which will be on exhibition at The Limetree Gallery, Bristol. As mentioned,please contact the gallery if you’d like to reserve any of these paintings before they go on exhibition 24th October this year…

Forest of Luffness, painting progress 3

Above Forest of Luffness 4. Oil on 14×14 inch wood. Rose Strang 2024

Today’s painting (from a series in progress inspired by the presence and history of a Carmelite Friary in the forest of Luffness) features my neice holding her new born baby, standing within the Friary.

I wanted to capture the sense of strength and protection that a young mother exudes, then the style of painting changed slightly and became a bit more contemporary. Probably something to do with Emma’s outfit which was quite contemporary.

I like this as a smaller study in the series. (All four paintings from this particular summer series below). I’ve been exploring the theme of the Carmelite Friary in Luffness since January, but each set of paintings is distinct to each season.

More oil sketches …

Above: Shorelines, Aberlady. I. Oil on 8×5.5″ wood. Rose Strang 2024

More oil sketches in progress today inspired by the shorelines and moods of Aberlady…

For my experimental paintings and ideas I’ve been working at this size for some time and it really works for me in terms of loose brushwork. It would be a bit of a nightmare to work at a larger size with this more experimental messy approach – that would be a lot of oil paint going to waste when it doesn’t work (which is often!) and a lot of physical energy and time expended.

It’s been a while since I posted a video of my working process. I’m very forgetful of such things but people seem to enjoy them, so one of those coming up soon.

I’m also still working on my Carmelite monastery and Crusader’s tomb series (see older posts) which are very different in feel to these smaller landscape paintings. I love the freedom of my smaller landscape paintings, but I think I have something more to say as an artist so I’ll be persevering with that series over the coming weeks. It’s important to get out of my comfort zone and dig a bit deeper …

Oil sketches …

Above: Aberlefdi. Winter I. Oil on 8×5.5″ wood. Rose Strang 2024

These are some oil sketches I’ve been working on as part of a general series this year which explores the history and landscape of Aberlady in the south of Scotland.

Part of the series is a deeper look at the the history of a Carmelite monastery near Aberlady, but the paintings also reflect my love of a landscape that’s deeply familar to me.

I think there’s something dreamlike about Aberlady. It might be the sheer sense of space in sky, sand and sea, but I think it’s also something I find in particular on the east coast of Scotland. Looking out to the north sea towards Norway and Denmark, there’s something haunting about the fact that about 8000 years ago we’d have been looking at Doggerland, before the series of great landslides called the Storegga Slides occurred, creating the north sea. It looks and feels very different to the soft light of the west coast of Scotland.

Whenever I look at paths or horizons in this landscape, I also think of journeys, and the fact that not so long ago in the days when Aberlady was called Aberlefdi (hence the title of this series of small landscapes) it was an important stop on the pilgrim route between the Isle of Iona and Lindisfarne, or Holy Isle as it’s also known. That was in around 700AD when one of St Columba’s followers called St Aiden was tasked with setting up a new monastery on Lindisfarne.

When you camp over night near Aberlady you experience all the moods of the seasons; the burnished gold of marram grass and sand in winter, the soft green of the sea and grass in June when the larks and rabbits are at their busiest, or the thunder, lightning and rainstorms on humid late summer nights.

Start to the year …

Above Aberlady Sketches 1. Oil on 5×7″ wood. Rose Strang 2024

A start to the year and a new project with this small, twilit painting of Aberlady.

It’s a project a long time in waiting. I was beginning to explore ideas back in early 2020 when the obvious event struck, causing a small panic about income, but then three painting commissions came at me from out of the blue and I’ve been busy ever since it seems.

The Village of Aberlady is not a place you’d describe as mysterious or dramatic, unless you knew it well. The first impression is of a very pretty, conventional village, perfect for the rich retirees. A train used to stop here but the railway was dismantled in the 1970’s. There are one or two shops, a couple of inns and a takeaway.

So why am I so obsessed with painting a series about my response to this place? Well, I’ll be painting and writing about ‘why’ for the rest of 2024!

The most obvious appeal, beyond the village itself, is of course the nature reserve that stretches across a mile or two of grassland and dunes to an expanse of glittering sand reaching far out to sea at low tide. It’s one of the very few places I’ll swim in Scotland. In August when the sea has become less cold and has flowed back in across the warm sand, bathing here in shallow water is almost bath-like. Plus there’s hardly anyone around since, compared to the amount of people at North Berwick further south along the coast, relatively few will walk the two miles to the sea. There are of course hundreds and thousands of birds, and deer, rabbits galore and any amount of other species I don’t know about.

The appeal for most people visiting Aberlady these days is peace in nature. One thing that fascinates me though is the way places change in importance over several hundred years, depending on their function. Think of St Andrews in Fife, it was the ecclesiastical centre of Scotland hunreds of years ago. Now it’s known as the home of Scotland’s oldest university, and for its golf course. (also made more famous by the royal romance I suppose. I was attending post graduate art studies there at the same time as Will and Kate but never bumped into them, not quite moving in the same circles!) Or think of York, known now for its olde worlde timber-framed buildings and awe-inspiring York Minster – when in the past it was the centre of power in England.

Going farther back in time, Aberlady was a place that had to defend itself from violent attack, and going even further back to  the 7th century it was the last stop for pilgrims on their way from Iona to Lindisfarne.

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Beneath its pleasant exterior I find Aberlady to be a place of deep mystery and drama. It’s something you can’t see, but rather it’s something you feel after years of immersing yourself in its landscape and history.

Hence why I’ll be working towards a series of paintings this year to explore my fascination with Aberlefdi, as it was originally named – a mixture of Pictish aber meaning river mouth and Lef, the name of a Viking warrior whose remains are interred beneath Luffness House in Aberlady Bay. That’s just one little detail in the whole story though.

More to follow in the coming weeks as the light improves and I can really get into painting this series …

One of my Aberlady paintings from 2020:

'Aberlady Dunes'. Mixed media on 30x30 inch wood panel. Rose Strang April 2020. (Private Commission, NFS).

New Commission – ‘Aberlady’

Above, my new commission, painted for a friend – Aberlady Dunes. Mixed media on 30×30 inch wood panel. Rose Strang April 2020. (Private Commission, NFS).

I wanted the feel of walking towards the sea through tufty marram grass, sunlight traveling towards you. There’s the sense of changing weather – a soft sky that might rain a little, or break up into glorious sunshine.

This image shows scale …

(To show scale)' Aberlady Dunes'. Mixed media on 30x30 inch wood panel. Rose Strang April 2020. (Private Commission, NFS).

(To show scale)’ Aberlady Dunes’. Mixed media on 30×30 inch wood panel. Rose Strang April 2020. (Private Commission, NFS).

Like many self employed artists, I’m thinking ahead to how I might sell work when this year’s exhibitions won’t be going ahead due to the Covid pandemic. I’d prefer to live by selling artworks, not by applying for Universal Credit.

Not only does it seem the government is not prepared for the millions of freelancers out there, I’d want to see those who need it most being the first recipients of benefits.

 

 

 

Who knows how long we’ll be in lockdown? I have time to paint so if you’d like a painting that captures your favourite landscape, feel free to commission me to paint something for you, whether it’s a few inches big, or up to several feet! I usually charge a third of the payment up front, then the rest when a client is happy with the work. Email me on rose.strang@gmail.com if you’d like to chat about a possible commission.

The photos below show some of the process of painting ‘Aberlady’.

Keep well folks! X

'Aberlady' in progress. Rose Strang 2020

1. ‘Aberlady’ in progress. Rose Strang 2020

2. 'Aberlady' in progress. Rose Strang 2020

2. ‘Aberlady’ in progress. Rose Strang 2020

3. 'Aberlady' in progress. Rose Strang 2020

3. ‘Aberlady’ in progress. Rose Strang 2020

4 'Aberlady' in progress. Rose Strang 2020

4 ‘Aberlady’ in progress. Rose Strang 2020

 

 

 

Project progress …

‘Aberlady. Winter Light’. Mixed media on 13×13 wood panel. Rose Strang 2020.

‘Aberlady Bay. Dusk’. Mixed media on 13×13 wood panel. Rose Strang 2020.

Above, today’s paintings of Aberlady – different moods and ways of painting the landscape.

I mentioned a while back that I’m taking things slower this year. I think I’ve maybe painted too busily these past few years, and it’s time to have a deeper think about the ideas that inspire me. It’s good to have a bit more time to contemplate and let projects grow more organically.

This year I’m working on three large paintings in response to the 7th century pilgrim’s route from the Isle of Iona to the isle of Lindisfarne, via Aberlady on the east coast of Scotland.

I’m collaborating with my partner Adam, who’s creating music and probably paintings too in response to the places and ideas. I’m creating a little video of each place, so eventually there will be a video showing footage of landscapes, music by Adam and paintings by myself.

I want to explore what pilgrimage meant in those days in contrast to now. We often talk about ‘mindfulness’ or the peace of solitude and retreat, but what is it really like to remain in solitude or silence for weeks on end? I know that I found it a challenge when I camped on Iona by myself for twenty one days in 2018. Part of that was physical challenge (slugs crawling up the tent, numerous over-friendly spiders that hitched a lift on my clothing whenever I entered the sleeping compartment, howling winds shaking the tent all night for the best part of twenty one days, also the sound of the Corncrake is really not pleasant to my ear!) but it also shook up my emotions. There were beautiful moments, but you have to be self-contained on such adventures; how you relate to people changes somehow.

My plan is to talk to some modern-day pilgrims; people who’ve immersed themselves in these landscapes of Iona and Lindisfarne in a spiritual or personal search for meaning. One of those people is a family friend called Jamie. Jamie was a monk for many years, he also lived on the Isle of Lindisfarne for a time, serving the community there as part of the Hilda and St Aidan Centre.

He took a deep commitment into his spiritual path, at one stage taking a long-term vow of silence to contemplate and, I suppose, face deeper questions about faith and commitment. (You can view an earlier post in which I interviewed Jamie here: The Healing Island).

I was delighted that Jamie recently commissioned me to paint a large-scale painting of Aberlady for his home. It will be an absolute pleasure to paint. I’ll be posting our interview on this blog later this year and it will be (I hope!) a more close and personal exploration of faith and healing, landscape and solitude.

Taking vows of silence, or seeking solitude in remote places is challenging. Recently I contacted a film producer and artist acquaintance to chat about all these ideas; landscape, creativity, healing, spirituality and pilgrimage past and present … and I’m excited about the results of our email conversation. It looks like this project may expand beyond my little video and three large paintings!

I’ll post more about this soon once a few more details are confirmed…

Aberlady mysteries …

Aberlady (in progress) 2020 Rose Strang

Above, one of today’s painting experiments.

I’m playing around with ideas for this year’s project, which will be three paintings, a video, also music by Adam Brewster, inspired by the 7th century Celtic pilgrim’s route from Iona to Lindisfarne via Aberlady. Aberlady was on the route between the islands of Iona and Lindisfarne, on the east coast of Scotland between Edinburgh and Berwick.

Although I’ve been visiting this area all my life, I never realised Aberlady’s importance until I discovered info on the Aberlady Conservation Society’s website. Clues are found in place names and from the 7th century Celtic cross discovered at Aberlady which was very similar to those found in Lindisfarne, which also related to crosses in Iona.

Image from website – eastlothianheritage.co.uk

Iona and Lindisfarne are famous for their ancient abbeys of course, but Aberlady’s only apparent claim to fame was its railway station, which shut down in the 1970s. Since then it’s mostly known to people as the village you drive through on your way to Aberlady nature trail, or the road to North Berwick and Berwick-upon-Tweed. I remember as kids we sometimes stopped there on our way back from North Berwick to buy fish and chips, it just seemed a sleepy sort of place, not significant at all.

I always find this sort of thing quite moving – the changing significance of places through time (just think of the discovery of Richard III’s remains, discovered some years ago, under a carpark!)

Near Aberlady you’ll find places named after St Bathan, such as Abbey St Bathans. Nowadays there’s a Kirk there, the abbey no longer remains, just the name.

It’s now believed that this name refers to Baithéne mac Brénaind, the second abbot of Iona after St Columba’s death. Bathan (a contemporary and disciple of Columba’s) would have continued Columba’s legacy – to spread Christianity through Britain, which was exactly why Lindisfarne monastery was created.

The ‘Bathan’ or Baithéne – related place names between Aberlady and Lindisfarne (and the 7th cent’ Celtic cross at Aberlady) therefore mark the fact that this was an important pilgrim’s route from the 7th century.

Image from website – eastlothianheritage.co.uk

At Abbey St Bathans you can see the remains of a 12th century Cistercian Priory, nothing relating to Bathan. In the 1960’s though, excavations revealed an ancient midden, with pottery remains and dedications to St Bathan. Even more significant – the remains of an iron-age broch were found, also a knife dating back to the iron age.

 

Brochs were very important buildings of the iron age, marking the sites of places that were significant then, if not now. Orkney, for example, has the remains of ancient brochs.  Just think of the significance of the Ness of Brodgar and its stone circle in Orkney – far older than Stonehenge and far more significant in its time, though why it was so significant is still a mystery.

This is maybe part of what I want to express with my paintings of Aberlady, Iona and Lindisfarne – peering back through the mists of time, feeling the human significance of a place without fully knowing its story – enjoying the mystery and trying to make sense of it through a combination of fact and creative instinct. The creative part allows me to retain respect, and I suppose wonder, for the sacredness of these places; so their significance and inspiration is not reduced to mere fact.

For those interested in the creative process (see images below) – I painted the dunes and coast of Aberlady a few days ago, then today covered this in a  film of gesso (semi-transparent white paint usually used to prime the surface of canvas etc before painting) then wiped that back to reveal the landscape through mist. I then re-gessoed the painting and wiped out an area to reveal a sort of window to the landscape. I re-gessoed the painting, popped it in the oven to dry, then I drew the line of Scotland’s east coast and the pilgrim’s route from Aberlady to Lindisfarne.

I played around with carbon paper and a rotary thing to create the dotted line that suggests a route or footpath, then I scrubbed off the surface layer of gesso with steel wool which destroyed the painting underneath, but I quite liked the effect. I also love the look of black carbon paper with mysterious markings that are difficult to see.

All of this will (eventually) result in a series of three interesting paintings on a much larger scale at some point later this year!

(Thanks to the Aberlady Conservation Society and East Lothian Heritage for Aberlady pilgrim’s route info. Find out more here: http://eastlothianheritage.co.uk/aberladyconservationsociety/linking-iona-and-lindisfarne/ )

 

 

 

 

Aberlady

‘Aberlady 1’. Mixed media on 5×6″ wood. Rose Strang 2020

‘Aberlady 2’. Mixed media on 5×6″ wood. Rose Strang 2020

Above, today’s quick paintings of Aberlady.

I’m experimenting with atmospheric depictions of Aberlady’s coastline for this year’s project which follows the 7th century pilgrim’s journey from Iona to Lindisfarne via Aberlady.

In March I’ll be traveling to Lindisfarne, then Iona in May. The plan is a series of three large paintings which capture the timeless atmosphere of these places. Also a video which I’m in the process of editing, with music composed by Adam Brewster.

There’s loads to be inspired by, but at this stage I’m not sure how I’ll choose to paint these places. The paintings above capture something of the dreamlike nature of Aberlady with its subdued east coast light and long stretches of marram grass covered dunes.

Aberlady coast. Film still, Rose Strang

This part of the coast is a nature reserve and it’s a 30 minute walk to the beach across grassy plains with a multitude of wild birds and occasional deer. Few people take the walk, so even in summer it feels as though you’re on an island. Folks who know how cold the east coast sea can be will hopefully be impressed when I say that Adam and I swam there last summer! However, that’s only because there’s a long stretch of shallow sea bed so it actually feels relatively warm since the sun heats up the water as it passes over long stretches of sun-warmed sand.

I’ve always felt there was a special atmosphere there and recently this was enhanced with the discovery of the remains of an ancient 12th century Carmelite Monastery, hidden away near an ancient yew forest near Luffness Castle.

One corner of the monastery remains intact and as you walk around it there’s a slight shock when you discover the weather-worn sculpture of an ancient knight under a crumbling stone archway (film still below). No-one knows who he might have been. A local V.I.P. perhaps, or an early pilgrim? The sculpture will feature in my video. More on that in coming months …

Aberlady knight. Film still, Rose Strang