Tag Archives: contemporary scottish artists

Forest of Pishwanton 2

Above: Today’s painting of birch trees in the forest of Pishwanton in East Lothian.

In the previous post I introduced the first painting in this series, explaining the odd name of the forest. The more I find out about this place, the more fascinating it becomes. For example, as well as the nearby ‘witch knowe’ – a witches hill, I discovered that the area now called Pishwanton (after the nearby river) is called Fairhill.

Quite pedestrian-sounding, a bit new-build estate maybe, but in fact it’s a new version of the original ‘Fairy Hill’. It seems the area was originally a place set aside for the ‘good people’, fairies in other words. Then in recent years it was used as a tipping site for rubbish and waste, until the Life Science Trust bought the land and returned it to original health.

I discovered all of this through the Life Science Centre’s website

It makes me want to deepen my understanding of their philosophy, which really feels like an antidote to all the destruction we’re witnessing in the world. I hope to get to know the area more. What began as an instinctive response – to paint the first signs of spring in these young birch forests, is growing into a genuine interest. Who knows where it will take me this year!

 

Forest of Pishwanton

Above. Birch Trees and Willow Shelter. Mixed media on 14×14″ wood. Rose Strang 2026.

This painting is inspired by the birch forests of Pishwanton, which is situated next to a gushing stream and a hill where witches used to gather. In old Scots ‘pish’ means a fast flowing stream and ‘wanton’ means abundant. So there you are, that explains the strange place name!

Pishwanton is owned by the Life Science Trust and everything there is created, grown or built according to Steiner principles about harmony and conservation. Just being there feels more gentle, not in a precious sort of way – just the way that nothing jars, visually or to the nose.

I’ve visited a lot over the years, and now I’m creating a little series of paintings inspired by the arrival of spring in Pishwanton. I feel we could all do with the harmony of Pishwanton just now. Here are a couple of details from the painting ..

Tonight I’m off to see an exhibition in Edinburgh of drawings by Matthew Collings, he did a wonderful series of documentaries in the 1990s about art. He creates paintings with his wife Emma Briggs, and he also draws, very prolifically. I bought one of his sketches a couple of years ago. It’s a self portrait of Matthew Collings drawing a sketch of the artist Frank Auerbach after Auerbach died.  Although Collings says the drawings are instinctive, to me it speaks of mortality. I don’t know if it was intentional, but in the sketch Collings looks semi transparent, as if if disappearing from existence. I find it both moving and uplifting, and I love the colours. I took quite a while choosing the frame with Jamie from Edinburgh’s Detail Framing and I think it looks wonderful floating above the shipwreck n my bookcase, along from a sea triptych I painted a year or so ago.

The subject matter Collings chooses is simply what he experiences each day; memories or current situations and experiences. For the past year of so the best part of his drawings have been about the war on Gaza, tso he work is often harrowing, capturing the brutality visited upon innocent civilians by our world leaders. I’ll post more about the exhibition tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Borrowed Land’ – Exhibition launch at the Kilmorack Gallery

Above – Borrowed Land , group exhibition at the Kilmorack Gallery. The ‘Trace’ series of paintings will be on exhibition as part of the show, which runs from November 2023 to March 2nd 2024. (Read more about the series here: Traces of the Past)

Last Saturday I travelled up north to be part of the the launch of Borrowed Land, an exhibition curated by owner of the Kilmorack Gallery Tony Davidson.

Part of Tony’s inspiration for the exhibition came from the quote; We do not inherit the land, we borrow it from our children. All participating artists were invited to respond to the concept of ‘borrowed land’. (our responses are included in the exhibition catalogue which is available from the gallery website here – Catalogue )

I’m completely enchanted by the Kilmorack gallery aesthetic and atmosphere. The building was formerly a church, built (at least part of it I think) in the late 1700s. I usually experience an internal cringe when churches are converted to non-religious purposes, not neccessarily because of the change of use from religious to commercial or everyday residential, but the fact of the architectural purpose of church buildings, which are designed to inspire contemplation, imagine the heavens or to aspire to something beyond ourselves. It’s why I feel an art gallery is suited to such a building; if the art presented inspires thought, imagination and contemplation as much as aesthetics.

Have a read about the exhibition Here, or take a look at the gallery via this excellent 3D walk-through …

https://my.matterport.com/show/?m=cYumFGguSW7&sr=.06,-.58&ss=3

After the exhibition launch we stayed over night to walk around the next day – some photos …

Traces of the past

Above: Trace. Blackwater. Oil on 80x80cm canvas. Rose Strang 2023

Traces of past cultures in landscape have fascinated me for many years. Especially those traces so subtle you’d walk past, barely noticing them. Expressing this subtlety in paint is a challenge.

While painting a series in 2018 titled ‘Wells of Arthur’s Seat’ I started to find a way. There are literal traces, like the trace of a chain on the boulder near St Anthony’s Well which was originally attached to a metal cup above a carved stone basin. The spring has long since dried up, but as late as the early 20th century people from Edinburgh would sip the water, or soak cloth in the water then apply it to their body in the belief it cured disease or imbalance.

I don’t want to paint literal traces, however, and while exploring the history of St Anthony’s Well I became immersed in the mystery of water. Its layers, veils and reflections suggested timelessness, ‘as above so below’, or the idea of liminal or in-between places.

Painting ripples left by, for example, a falling twig, reminded me of pre-historic concentric rings carved into rocks around the British Isles. No one knows why those carvings were created, but to me they suggested ever multiplying rings created by cause and effect – a falling leaf that creates a pulse of water, shifting tectonic plates that create the huge pulse of a tsunami, or the mystery of gravity and the orbiting planets and moons of our solar system.

When I visited Saxon burial mounds at Sutton Hoo in Suffolk it wasn’t the mounds themselves I wanted to paint, it was the river that led to the mounds – the River Deben. I painted reflections on the river and the wake left by a passing boat – to me the flowing river brought that past culture to life more than the burial mounds. Cultures change and become strange or indecipherable but a boat’s wake remains the same. I could envisage their arrival from northern Europe to the Suffolk coast up the River Deben, imagining what made them settle here and select this particular spot as as a sacred burial ground.

Then the process of painting the layers of water was so complex in itself – there is translucency and opacity, reflections, the rhythm of flowing water and the fact of constant movement and change. I was also thinking of the fact that nature was at the heart of Saxon culture and religion. For example the tree of life – Yggdrasil – which encompasses many different worlds. Each of the tree’s three roots is fed by three different wells representing past, present and future.

These myths reflect a truth – that everything is connected. Our recent past, encompassing the industrial revolution and unprecedented consumption of resources, has taken us full circle back to this realisation of inter-connectedness, and the dilemma of how to move forward. Our culture will leave more trace than any that came before us.

At Loch Venachar in the Central Highlands of Scotland, I searched for the remains of a Crannog (iron-age man-made islands on which wooden dwelling structures were built). The island itself was visible, but sadly concrete had been poured onto the remants, probably to prevent it being washed away. Again, literal remnants didn’t move me so much as the trace of stones leading to the island – just the merest suggestion that in this area at the loch’s edge the stones were just a little raised. Gazing at the stones as dawn rose, rays of sunlight began to reveal the stones beneath the surface, while further away the surface remained opaque. These half-revealed images suggested more to the imagination.

Loch Venachar is fed by the Blackwater River and as we explored further along the river side, I found myself mesmerised by the reflected green/yellow light of foliage in the black water, still as a mirror, which brought to mind Corinthians 13:12:

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

These ideas are complicated to express creatively in an image. Or not so complicated when simply observing what’s there; traces on water – concentric circles, ripples, what’s revealed below, or concealed from view, what is mirrored back to us. Although we can’t know all, we do know that all is connected. When contemplating nature these images become poetic and profound.

This series of three paintings – Trace. Sutton Hoo, Trace, Portnellan Island, Loch Venachar and Trace, Blackwater, will be on show as part of the exhibition Borrowed Land, which launches at The Kilmorack Gallery on the 18th November 2023.

‘Trace. Blackwater’. Oil on 80x80cm canvas. Rose Strang 2023