Just a quick update to say I am very excited to be working with Heriot Gallery in Dundas Street, Edinburgh. They recently got in touch to say they admired my work and requested some for their current Winter Show.
The Old Town, Edinburgh (Twilight), Mixed media 65×50 (image size)
So I delivered these paintings yesterday and very much looking forward to continuing to work with owners Angela and Lorna. I haven’t shown any work in Edinburgh since moving to Aberdeen earlier this year, so it’s great to have some of my locally-inspired pieces available in the Capital once again.
Ramsay Garden (ii), Mixed media 60x18cm (image size)
The show runs until 29th Jan 2022, after which I’ll also be including new work in their follow-up exhibition Land & Sea in February 2022.
Dean Village, Edinburgh, Mixed media 65×50 (image size)
I’m currently working on some new Edinburgh-based oil paintings for that, so watch this space for further details … !
St Monans (Blue & Red Boat With Smoking Chimneys), 35x15cm (image size)
A recently finished commission: East Neuk (Waxing Moon and Stars)
Until recently, I’d never heard of “The Beggar’s Mantle Fringed With Gold”. It was King James VI of Scotland who coined that description of Fife’s coast; the ragged shoreline being the frayed cloak from which the begging hand of Fife is held out in hope that the sea will provide sustenance. The gold lining perfectly captures the beautiful fishing villages that fringe the East Neuk, especially when the phosphorescent orange street lamps are aglow and the houses are lit up and cosy on a cold winter’s night.
I came to hear of it one Saturday morning a few weeks ago when my phone pinged to inform me that another painting had sold from my Big Cartel shop. As always, I got in touch with the buyer right away and, after discussing postage and various other details, asked where he’d come across my work.
Back to the beginning
The reply was so very unexpected and it not only made my day but also gave me the biggest confidence boost an artist could wish for.
The answer had its roots way back when I first started exhibiting in 2008. In fact, it was at the first exhibition I ever entered (the annual open at Kirkcaldy Museum and Art Gallery) that Jim had spotted my work. It was an oil painting of a row of typically-colourful cottages all huddled together along the shore, looking almost fearful of the next incoming tide. I’d given it the title Awaiting The Turn of The Tide with that thought in mind.
East Neuk (Starry Night)
A few days after the opening I returned to see the whole show and was thrilled to find my first ever red dot. The painting really seemed to glow and stand out quite nicely in that large space. I walked out with my feet in the air and feeling this idea of being an artist I’d had for a while might just work!
But you never really think about all the other people who might stop and have a look at your efforts in a gallery. So it came as a big surprise to hear that it was way back then that my new buyer informed me he had first seen my work. He had gone in on a mission to find inspiration for a song he was trying to write for a performance he’d soon be giving at that year’s Stanza Poetry Festival in St Andrews. The song had to capture that ‘beggar’s mantle fringed with gold’ feeling. He told me that it was my painting of glowing cottages tumbling down into the sea that had helped him to visualise an idea of what he wanted to capture in words. He went off and wrote the lyrics below for Dances With Angels, performed it at Stanza and that, as they say, was that.
East Neuk (Crescent Moon)
But now, 12 years later and living in Kent, he told me he’d always remembered that painting (someone else had bought it) and was now in a position to buy one of my East Neuk pictures for himself. In fact, he’d had a hard job choosing between the two I had for sale on my website and a couple of days later he ended up buying the other one as well. (The two paintings directly above.)
That he’d remembered my work all that time was incredibly uplifting for me. But that it had also helped him to write his lovely song was just wonderful to discover all these years later.
And so One thing leads to another
Jim has since gifted me a cd of his work, much of which has been covered by internationally renowned folk singer June Tabor. It’s a wonderful, highly evocative album and I’d recommend it to anyone who loves great music and the romance of the sea – and the East Neuk of Fife in particular. It’s called Diamonds In The Night by Andy Shanks and Jim Russell and is available to download at Amazon or from Greentrax Records. Dances With Angels isn’t on this album, but here’s a link to a Youtube video of Andy and Jim performing it live in Orkney back in 2000.
I think it’s great when work made in one art form inspires and informs that made in another. And to have had a wee part in that myself is a lovely thing!
I’ll be listening to Diamonds in The Night a lot this winter while I work, and I’m sure it will in turn inspire many more pictures that are still to be conjured up and painted into existence.
Dances With Angels, words by Jim Russell
The whole town is tumbling down to the sea,
Footsteps we left in the sand
Are gone when the moon pulls up the tide
Changing the paths we had planned.
Where is my comfort? There’s no angels here,
Unless they’re all hiding their wings,
Or dancing in small towns with strangers like me,
Hoping tomorrow brings.
Dances with angels
Dances with angels
They say angels dance by the steeple clock moon
With lighthouses flashing like stars,
Casting shadows and shapes and turning in time
To the staggering songs from the bars.
Now we travel with care and the tracks of our lives
Are a cage, but if you break free,
Go tumbling and turning then soaring like gulls,
Crow stepping down to the sea!
But where is my comfort? There’s no angels here,
Unless their all hiding their wings,
Or dancing in small towns with strangers like me,
Hoping tomorrow brings.
Dances with Angels
Dances with Angels
The streets are all dancing
The children are dancing
The songs from the bars spin around with the stars.
