Tag Archives: forest paintings

Forest of Pishwanton 4

Above: Wood Cabin. Pishwanton. Mixed media on 14×8″ wood. Rose Strang 2026

Today’s painting featuring spring in the foreswt of Pishwanton, following on from the previous three posts. This is a series I’m drawn to paint not just because spring emerging is such a joyful time of year, but also because of the location – Pishwanton in East Lothian.

It’s a piece of land that was formerly used as a tip, which was rescued by the Life Science Centre who decided to experiment with sustainable cultivating approaches isnpired by Steiner principles of observation and connectedness.

When I feel a bit less puggled (it’s been a busy day) I’ll write more, suffice to say for the moment that the principles of observation they describe chime with me, and the way I want to understand the subjects I paint. Not just visually, but in myriad ways. More of that next week.

 

Forest of Pishwanton 3

Above: ‘Birch Forest’. Pishwanton. Mixed media on 14×14″ wood. Rose Strang 2026.

Today’s painting of birch trees in the forest of Pishwanton in East Lothian follows on from the last two posts depicting birch forests emerging from winter. I love trees, and it’s so inspiring to learn about this place, which in cared for by the Life Science Centre in Scotland.

I’m delving into the philosophy behind the Life Science Centre, and it really resonates with the way I approach painting, especially the nature of observation.

I have some projects to get on with right now, but I’ll explore more of that in the next blog.

Forest of Luffness, painting progress – 12

Above: First of June. Forest of Luffness 9. Oil on 30 by 30 inch canvas. Rose Strang 2025

This is the largest in a series of the same subject. I wanted to create it on a large scale to really get the sense of the figures in a forest – possibly lost, or perhaps they’ve discovered themselves in a different realm or time!

Here are the three paintings at different sizes –

Forests seem to have always been associated with mystery, a search, sometimes the idea of freedom from authority, or the idea of spiritual seclusion. I’m a fairly instinctive painter – I don’t begin with a definite concept that I then execute precisely – far from it! I think this approach echoes what I find in landscape and why I paint it. Adding figures always brings tension – it makes the viewer ask more questions, especially when the group are so srangely placed as they are in this painting.

More paintings coming soon, I’m having a little break from it for a couple of days while I write a book of short stories I’ve been working on. More on that later …

Here’s aclose-up of the figures –

Forest of Luffness. Painting progress 11

Above: First of June. Forest of Luffness 8. Oil on 19.5×19.5 inch wood. Rose Strang 2025

This series is (at last) coming into its own now. It’s taken far longer than other painting series to become coherent as there have been a lot of elements to bring together.

I’m starting to see the theme of a search emerge – these figures in the forest asking questions of life and death. I’ve always loved Gauguin’s painting D’où venons-nous? Que sommes-nous? Où allons-nous?/Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going? 1897 In which he asks these questions so fundamental to the human condition:

At the same time as painting this series (which explores the ruined remains of a 12th century Carmelite Friary) I’ve also been learning Medieval music from the time, which has become part of the documentary (by filmmaker Manuel Pennuto) about this entire project.

So, tomorrow I’ll share some photos showing part of the process, including really beautiful stills from our music recording session from the Song House at St Mary’s Episcopal Cathedral in Edinburgh last week. Hugely inspiring!

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.

MV5BMTk2ODc0NTAwMV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMzU5NzYzNw@@._V1_FMjpg_UX1000_

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.

Kintail to Ardban

Below – the complete series Kintail to Ardban created for a three-artist exhibition opening at the Limetree Gallery, Bristol on the 31st of October.

Applecross day 9

'Ardban. Forest Rain'. Oil on 19 x 19" wood. Rse Strang 2020

‘Ardban. Forest Rain’. Oil on 19 x 19″ wood. Rse Strang 2020

Today’s painting for the new series which will be on exhibition at the Limetree Gallery Bristol from 31st October.

This is today’s attempt to capture the magical, mossy forests that grow down to the sea along the west coast of Scotland. These remains of ancient oak and birch wood covered all the atlantic coastlines in the past. At Ardban and in other coastal areas such as Ardnamurchan, Moidart and Applecross these beautiful mossy forests of indiginous oak, birch and rowan still flourish. You can easily imagine them to be inhabited with dryads, sprites and the like!

I finish the series tomorrow if all goes to plan, not that there’s much of a plan but it would be great to finish these by Sunday then I can extract all the oil paint from my finger nails, clothes and floor!

More paintings tomorrow …

Borders Country Day 20

P1250985Getting together a body of work now, so I can see it taking shape and the general feel the exhibition will have.

I did a bit more work on ‘Wood Cabin, Leithen’ and I’m a bit happier with the reflections –

'Wood Cabin, (Leithen) 2'. Acrylic on 20x16" canvas

‘Wood Cabin, (Leithen) 2’. Acrylic on 20×16″ canvas

Today’s experimentations (I can see a nice muddy stream emerging in the bigger work and might bring that out a bit)

In progress. 40x30" canvas

In progress. 40×30″ canvas

In progress

In progress (20×16″ canvas)

 

Serendipitous effects in this one as it’s painted over an earlier painting (‘St Abbs’ – I wasn’t happy with the postcard view feel of it). The texture beneath created the horizontal lines at the top when lightly brushed over.

As you can see I’m painting more and typing less, I’m off to make dinner now!