Tag Archives: fine art

Winter Still Lifes 2

Above: 18th Century Baluster Wine Glass. Oil on 12 by 9 inch wood. Rose Strang 2025

Today’s still life; an 18th century Baluster wine glass – a type of glass with a heavy stem featuring bulbous patterns. I love those horizontal marks near the top of the glass that show the glass has stretched and that it’s hand-made. Isn’t it interesting that they would have worked so hard to remove these ‘flaws’ and nowadays we value them as part of the maker’s marks – not mass produced?

Tomorrow I’ll be painting the last in this series of three still lifes for The Graystone Gallery, Edinburgh, for their upcoming Christmas exhibition.

If you like the look of any of these, feel free to contact the Graystone with enquiries.

Some more details …

Exhibition Saturday 19th July

Coming up in just 9 days, The Edinburgh Festival Exhibition at The Graystone Gallery, Edinburgh!

Saturday 19th June, 2 to 4pm, Graystone Gallery

Here’s a litle vid showing the inspiration of Iona and clips of the painting process …

Forest of Luffness. Painting progres 16

Above: Forest of Luffness 11. Oil on 30×30″ canvas. Rose Strang 2025

I decided to work on yesterday’s painting a bit more as I felt it lacked depth and compared to the rest of the series, looked a bit sketchy.

More details below, including myself next to the painting to show scale…

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.

Forest of Luffness, painting progress 2

Above Forest of Luffness 3. Oil on 33×23″ wood. Rose Strang 2024.

A few changes to the painting since my last post (both versions below) . .

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Although the character on the left is based on me I wanted to make it more anonymous. The exagerrated outline brings something stronger to the painting and rubbed out areas bring more mystery I hope.

I think the broken archway also becomes more mysterious, with the faint blue sky enhancing the idea of a passageway.

The video I mentioned in my last blog will explore the background of this series, but more than that I think it will reveal what’s interesting about the creative process in general. A painting doesn’t just involve the artist in their studio, but rather many experiences, involving many people. It’s not simply created to make money, or it shouldn’t be at least!

I think it was just a matter of time before I brought people into my landscapes. I’ve always loved figuratve drawing, especially line and expression of line and movement.

Before I studied for a degree in art (back in 1994) I completed the usual art and design course for those interested in becoming artists – a foundation national certificate in art and design at Edinburgh’s Telford College. Luckily while there I was taught life drawing (drawing of the human figure) by one of Edinburgh’s well known artists and teachers, Bill Gillon.

I’ve got to say he was a much better art teacher than those I encountered while studing my degree in art in later years! Every Monday we all spent seven hours intensively painting a nude model. I came to love the human body in all its manifestations ; young and old, large and small, willowy or weighty – all were fascinating to draw.

Mostly it was a process of frustration – my figures looked insubstantial, weightless, out of proportion – but over time – with Bill Gillon’s tuition and encouragement and in fits and starts, I began to make some headway.

I remember when I got a crit’ at the end of the year (always a very difficult thing for a budding artist!) and I glowed with happiness when he described a couple of my life paintings as ‘real crackers!’. He wasn’t so positive about some of my other work – namely a painting of a tedious vase of flowers – ‘Why? What’s it saying?’ he demanded, quite rightly!

Back in 2016 when I was creating my portrait of Richard Demarco, Richard asked me who’d taught me drawing, I replied ‘Bill Gillon’, since I really didn’t get a tuition in drawing and painting at art college. It turned out that Bill had been one of Richard’s pupils when Richard was an art teacher!

I was sad to hear that Bill had taken ill and passed away in 2014, but it was good to see there’s now a Facebook page set up in his honour where artists can upload work inspired by Bill, or talk about their memories. I might add a link to this post.

Painting process 6 – nearly finished!

Here’s the sixth video showing the process of a painting (which I’m calling ‘The Path’ for now) from my new series inspired by the remains of a Carmelite friary in the mysterious forest of Luffness.

I’m talking about a couple of dilemmas here that came up – mostly how to make decisions that keep the panting loose without overworking it.

These videos are also posted on my instagram which is findable under ‘Rose Strang art’

Painting process 5 – ‘The Path’

Here’s the fifth video showing the process of a painting (which I’m calling ‘The Path’ for now) from my new series inspired by the remains of a Carmelite friary in the mysterious forest of Luffness.

I’ve added a Bach variation piano piece to enhance your viewing pleasure. Tomorrow I’ll post the next stage.

These videos are also posted on my instagram which is findable under ‘Rose Strang art’

Winter Exhibition at the Resipole

Above: Coigach 1. Oil on 5×7″ wood. Rose Strang 2023

Six little paintings on wood from my ‘Coigach series’ are showing as part of the Resipole Gallery’s Winter Show. Beautifully presented as always by the gallery curators alongside some wonderful paintings and ceramics – all reflecting the textures and atmosphere of Scotland’s west coast. Here are the six paintings in the show …

The exhibition runs from December until 29th February 2024. You can view the exhibition Here, or better still travel up there to experience Ardnamurchan – one of the few places where you can still walk among Atlantic oaks at the edge of white beaches with turquoise sea lapping the shore.

‘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