Dwell 2021: Paintings
A selection of this work forms part of an exhibition in April 2021 at the Open Eye Gallery.
The Road Builder (Oxgangs Farm), Oil on canvas, 107 x 103 cm, 2021
In the 1970s, on our daily car journeys into Aberdeen, I would be fixated on any road improvements, whether making a blind corner safer or changing a junction. I was as fascinated by the logistics of how they maintained the traffic flow during construction. On longer journey I took in the details of conversions to dual-carriageways and hills cut away. I would role play this in dug up areas of our garden. I spent days constructing road networks, fixing them, rerouting, widening, constructing flyovers and merging traffic. I now, 50 years later have my own garden, and I enjoy constructing path and landscaping just as much. This painting, in imaginary reds and grey, is set in my current raised-bed plot with me as a child emersed in his complex road network.
The Blow Torch Incident (Glenburn), Oil on canvas, 101 x 87 cm, 2021
At Glenburn, mid 70s, our kitchen was gutted and reworked. My memory is shaky, but I believe a young apprentice was stripping the paint off the windows with paint stripper and a blow torch. I was first home from school and got about my chores. When other siblings arrived, it became clear that the woodwork above the kitchen was alight and flames and smoke was pouring out. My mum on getting home just about fell to the floor. With smoke billowing out, we were rushed away to schoolmates while a fleet of fire engines arrived. The house survived. This painting looks north from Learney Hill over to Glenburn and Claydykes Farm, across the Aberdeen to Tarland Road.
Less Than Ideal Homes Exhibition, Oil on panel, 100 x 81 cm, 2020
I have lived in 29 homes in 56 years from Liverpool, Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Chichester, Hastings and Oxford. The specificity of each home providing distinct visual markers, framing memories and pivotal events by association. In this painting, I depict living rooms as I remember them from just some of these homes. Initially, inspired by the theatrical warren of ideal home showrooms, this work also plays on images from early 2020 of the devastation from bush fires in Australia leaving only stone chimneys intact across whole towns. A premonition, perhaps, of the global devastation just about to arrive?
Youth Theatre (Kings Street) Oil on canvas 87 x 101 cm, 2020
In the 1970s and 80s, Aberdeen had thriving after-hour Council supported theatre groups for primary and secondary pupils. Kids from all backgrounds across the city attended weekly for workshops, readings, stage craft, movement and rehearsals to stage ambitious public performance. Longacre Players was for 13-year-olds and up and met every Wednesday evening at the Children’s Theatre right next the Aberdeen Arts Centre in Kings Street. It was the highlight of the week, building confidence, social skills, creative discipline and imagination. This painting captures the excitement of performance week, as we moved from the rehearsal rooms to the dressing room walkway, towards the green room and stage of the Art Centre and the waiting public. These evenings were electric.
Learney Incantations (Tornaveen) Oil on canvas 135 x 145 cm, 2021
Our last family home (1972-77) was a hop from Torphins to the farmlands of Tornaveen in Aberdeenshire. Glenburn was a large awkward granite Dorma bungalow butted next to the only fast stretch of the Aberdeen to Tarland road. Behind the house lay a one-acre mature garden and Learney Hill beyond: There were standing stones inscribed with stories of witches – I knew nothing of the real witch hunt trials in the 16th Century – which fuelled imaginations to get lost in play, enact characters and improvise stories. These were precious moments before coming of age and the breakup of our family.
Cross Section (Glenburn), Oil on canvas 60 x 100 cm, 2020
The art of the cutaway illustrations such as L. Ashwell Wood in ‘Eagle’ comic and ‘Look and Learn’ magazines fascinate me, providing context to the interior workings of buildings, machines and modes of transport. Until more recently, my paintings were either set indoors or out – until it dawned on me that the device of the cutaway could offer expanded pictorial expositions. ‘Cross Section’ cuts off the rear of ‘Glenburn’ to reveal the interior spaces and inhabitants. The heavy lifting of the structure is done via a detailed under-drawing. It is important to me that the finish is quite painterly, so much of the drawing get obliterated – but I know it’s there.
Rosemount Place (Cutaway), Oil on panel 38 x 61 cm, 2020
I spent my formative years living with my mum in the ‘popular Rosemount area’ of Aberdeen; largely Victorian grey granite tenements lined with Independent shops and boutiques. above a kitchen appliance store overlooking a busy junction. The entrance to the grand shared stone staircase had a round window set in heavy set carved granite. After a childhood of rural living, like the centre of the universe.
Medal Thief (Oxgangs Farm), Oil on panel, 65 x 54 cm, 2020
We were burgled a few years ago, in the early hours of a summer’s night while asleep in our own rooms. Each of us thought the rumblings and creaking was the other, and like a well-choregraphed farce, we kept missing each other as we both stealthily went to investigate. In the morning, the house had been ransacked, cupboards and drawers open, lights on, and boxes contents spilt out. Nothing appeared missing – not laptops, cameras, tvs. Just one thing gone; a small medal I was safe keeping. Clearly the medal thief of Oxgangs Farm. We never got it back.
Tenement Alimentation, Oil on panel, 100 x 81 cm, 2020
I have lived in a few traditional tenement flats with shared stone stairs, landing, a back green and sometimes WCs. My experiences are of families, flatmates, couples and single occupants living cheek by jowl, rarely sharing more than the entry intercom or a grunt on the stairs. This painting depicts an imaginary block of flats with rooms I have lived in and occupied over my life; disconnected memories shared within a building.
‘Crisis Dwellers’, 61 x 46 cm oil on panel, 2020
As COVID broke in Wuhan in late 2019, bush fires devasted vast swathes of Australia, the ice caps ever decreasing, the ozone depleting and many desperate communities’ risk everything to escape persecution and find safe haven. I painted ‘Crisis Dwellers’ to show there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide – as we retreat into our homes.
‘South Bank Duplex (Chichester)’, Oil on panel, 30 x 46 cm, 2020
For three of the 4 years I lived in Chichester, I rented a one-bedroom flat in an unremarkable duplex along a cul-de-sac which took you to the start of the Chichester Ship Canal. This painting is not how it was, but it is how I remember it.
Lost in the Supermarket,46 x 61cm oil on panel. 2020
March 2020 saw a shortage of loo roll and apocalyptic panic buying in the supermarkets. It all seems quite quaint now and a long time ago. This painting, made a year ago, tries to capture that moment as if we were living in a dodgy 1970s ‘world under siege’ movie.
Single Occupancy (Albury Road), Oil on panel, 30 x 33 cm, 2020
My first owned home was a ground floor one bedroomed flat in Aberdeen. It was also the first home I had access to the internet via dial-up; Information at our fingertips at a snail’s pace provided endless evenings compelled to the novelty of idle searching. This work shows disparate neighbours, many living alone, all staring at screens, in the warm glow of feeling connected.
The Big Room (Glenburn), Oil on panel, 30 x 38 cm, 2018.
Inevitably, the biggest room in any house gets known as the ‘The Big Room’. Glenburn’s big room was the result of two large receptions rooms knocked through leaving an open stone two-sided fireplace. I have painted this several times from memory, and, as I have no photographic record, each time its size a structure change. This painting carries the spirit of the room but not the accuracy. It wasn’t at all yellow, but it just seemed right for this version, not least to allow the 1970s ‘Habitat’ spherical paper lightshades to glow.
John’s Visit (Rosemount) Oil on panel 45 x 60 cm 2020
Around 1983, my good friend John Henderson, made a wonderful line drawing of a section of my bedroom in Rosemount Place Aberdeen. It included details of theatre posters I had designed, my desk for drawing at and of course my swivel chair. We were both about to embark into Higher Education after a teen friendship of drawing and creating comics together and being one half of the legendary post punk/reggae/jangly guitar combo ‘Gentleman Jim’ (John was the drummer). In 2020 John reminded me of the drawing so I asked if I could use it to expand it into a painting. The result is ‘John’s Visit’; a retelling of the meeting of two benign friends, at a time when rifling through each other’s records, artworks and comic collections was about as good as it got. I have been pretty faithful to the proportions of the drawing, and captured the ‘muffin’ coloured walls and beige faux indie kid clothes and black and white photocopied posters on the walls.
Raised Roof (Glenburn), Oil on panel, 30 x 45cm, 2018
This is perhaps my favourite version of Glenburn, painted near the start of the series. I had been drawing floor plans and layout, trying to piece together all the rooms. 3d computer walkthroughs of homes are increasingly available on property sites and we are used to viewing isometric plans with roofs cutaway or shifted so we can see in. This device was useful as I wanted to capture the evening spirit of each of the lit rooms against the stillness and shadows of the dark outdoors. There are no people in these earlier works to allow multiple stories to be played out.
Albury Road Card Players, Oil on panel , 45 x 61 cm, 2020
I owned a one-bedroom ground floor flat in Aberdeen in the 1990s. For a year or so, my brother Chris stayed with me one night a week, due to his job at the time. Chris loved playing cards and was really good at them. I enjoy them too, but not so good. On these nights, we played gruelling 2-hour games of ‘Contract Whist’ We a kept a running tally of the scores and a record of stats which we analysed a great length. Contract Whist generates a lot of numbers and whichever way we looked at them they told the same story; that Chris was the consistent percentage man, while I had the occasional flurry of highs and a plethora of lows. This painting places these game nights affectionately within the context of the imagined activities of adjacent unknown neighbours.
‘Guitar Practice, (Rosemount Place)’ Oil on panel 31 x 38 cm, 2020
From 1978, aged 13 I lived with my mum Rose in Aberdeen, until 1985. Her flat was a generous Victorian tenement block which she transformed, revealing an original parkay floor and expansive walls she painted black. No central heating; just those glowing orange mains gas fires. It was the early 80s, I was a teen, so I had a guitar and amp and belted out the Clash. I was no musician, but that didn’t stop me dreaming of being a punk star in my mum’s front room.
Oxgangs Farm Defences, Oil on panel, 32 x 38 cm, 2020
In early 2020, I erected a modest fence around our house boundary to allow our dog Stanley to roam safely in our gardens. We were in strict lockdown and only allowed one walk per day with no visitors – so the fence resonated in other ways. I pass the nearby Dreghorn Army Barracks almost every day when I walk Stanley and their perimeter fence is high heavily barbed with armed guards at the entrance. For this small painting, I wanted to acknowledge, and be playful with the physical space of home we have retreated into has become our world, so I have placed the high barbed fence around.
Front Elevation (Glenburn), Oil on panel, 40 x 66 cm, 2018
The project which became DWELL started with a series of painted reconstructions of Glenburn, our last family home. Through memory, supposition, floorplans and logic, I pieced together a succession of versions of this spacious Aberdeenshire dwelling. This version was one of the first I did, a front elevation punctuated by a succession of ground floor rooms while upstairs, the ‘tower’ and the big attic room. My dad’s Humber Hawk is in the driveway and behind is Learney Hill. The colours are entirely invented but brings to mind those twilight latte summer evenings.
Chopin Recital Competition (St Andrews and St Georges West), Oil on panel, 38 x 60 cm, 2020
Virtually the last social event I attended before the first lockdown was a Chopin Piano Recital. I was there seeing one of my students, a virtuoso piano player, perform, compete and be adjudicated by experts. I don’t find myself in churches very often, but the whole atmosphere with perfunctory facilitators straight out of an Alan Bennett play, scribbling notes and peering over their glasses while the contestants play. There is a wonderful ritual, as each player sets up their chair height and sorts their sheet music before composing themselves and strike a first facial expression as the hands poised to play. Ahed, you were brilliant – I shall never forget your performance.
Claire’s Room (Glenburn), Oil on panel , 30 x 45 cm, 2018
A person’s bedroom follows them around, wherever they live. My sister Claire had at least five different bedrooms while we were growing up – now merged as one in my memory. This small painting tries to capture Claire’s room at a time she was moving from horse riding, drawing, musical theatre, dressing up and performing. I remember it being packed with an assortment of wonders; clothes, hair products, books, objects and ‘equestriana’ charged with patterned green splendour and patterns.
Boys Room (Glenburn), Oil on panel, 30 x 45 cm , 2018
Upstairs at Glenburn was a room spanning most of the footprint of the house, full of alcoves and angles to make way for chimneys, Dorma windows and the sloping roof. It had two doors in right next to each other, suggesting it once was two rooms. It served various functions in the time we lived there, including being my room, but I’ll best remember it as ‘the boys room’, full of the sounds of the Incredible String Band, Neil Young and Scalextric.
Bluebird Bus to Aberdeen, Oil on panel, 15 x 21 cm, 2018
Bluebird buses, with their yellow and cream livery and bluebird logo were the iconic country public transport across Aberdeenshire and beyond. There were only two buses timetabled between Aberdeen and Tarland each weekday: one to Aberdeen in the morning and the return to Tarland at teatime. The bus stopped right outside Glenburn about 20 miles and 45 minutes to Aberdeen. The bus was not only a lifeline for rural commuters, but also served countless shops with papers, magazines and packages and made all sorts of drops along the way. Bluebird buses, with their yellow and cream livery and bluebird logo were the iconic country public transport across Aberdeenshire and beyond. There were only two buses timetabled between Aberdeen and Tarland each weekday: one to Aberdeen in the morning and the return to Tarland at teatime. The bus stopped right outside Glenburn about 20 miles and 45 minutes to Aberdeen. The bus was not only a lifeline for rural commuters, but also served countless shops with papers, magazines and packages and made all sorts of drops along the way.
Fireplace (Glenburn), Oil on panel, 15 x 21 cm, 2018
At Glenburn, we had two rooms knocked into one with a central two-sided fireplace. The ‘big room’, was for grown-ups; no tv, but filled with paintings, sculptures, books and the scratchy sounds of vinyl records playing contemporary opera. But it was the fireplace which defined the space; it never quite worked; the smoke not finding a draw and the heat not filling the space. Over my series of paintings of Glenburn, this fireplace has been a key anchor for positioning the surrounding spaces. In this small study, I have tried to capture its exposed stonework in a cold early evening, with the fire just about going.
Hercules Rider (Glenburn, oil on panel, 15 x 20cm, 2019
It took me forever to learn to ride a bicycle. I eventually got my own bike; a blue Hercules with small white wheels. I loved it. It took me on adventures through Tornaveen and beyond. Every Friday, around 5:30pm, I waited for the yellow bluebird bus to pass by our house and followed it on my bike a mile up the road to Peter’s shop, a general store where everything was behind a counter. The shop closed at 6pm so I had only a small window of time to get to the shop and catch the bus dropping a roll of weekly newspapers, magazines and my copy of 2000AD comic. Peter would have to be a good mood to untie the roll and find my comic before he closed up. I couldn’t bear to wait until Saturday to devour the stories and drawings.
School Stairs (Torphins, Oil on panel, 15 x 21 cm, 2019
Finding it tough going as a 9-year-old at Torphins Primary, I excused myself from class. Heading to the loos, wanting the ground to eat me up, I conjured up my future adult self – just to have a word. Not much was said but much was felt. I wanted to be him now and skip the years in between. We (me and ‘future-self’) agreed to keep in touch. We did. And still do. Except now I am ‘future-self’, conjuring up the 9-year-old, forever stuck in the school loos in 1975.