Month: October 2024

Remembering the East London Group

October 27, 2024

No time at the easel AT ALL this week. I have had a streaming flu. Nearly recovered, thank you for asking.

So here is one I painted many months ago: a copy of a still life by Henry Silk, one of the East London Group of working class painters, active between the great wars of the 20th century. Silk was a basket weaver by trade. He made beautiful small paintings of the things in his house. Tobacco, matches and shoe polish are frequently seen. He also did gritty urban landscapes and van Goghian interiors of a very high standard indeed.
This one is called ‘Squeak and Wilfred’. It captures a newspaper, memories of the Great War and (naturally) smoking paraphenalia.

Boston KS sharpener

October 20, 2024

I love feeding a pencil to an old Boston KS sharpener. Beautiful to look at, makes a wonderful sound as you use it, but absolutely murders pencils. Ah well, cannot have everything.

Still life with silver cup, bottle and driftwood

October 13, 2024

Hip replacements and hearing aids are not free, but it remains true that most of the best things in life are in fact free. Time is one of those things and driftwood is another. My studio is jammed with driftwood, but alas not so much time.

With one thing and several others, not much time at easel this week. But long enough to compose this still life of my favourite empty bottle, my favourite silver cup and one of my many beloved hunks of wood.

Interest you in some wine and a stick? Maybe a sticky wine?

A little Hopper in a tiny gallery

October 6, 2024

I was heartened (sort of) to see a news story about a famous Australian artist who had a shipping container or two of unsold paintings. Not all of our deathless works of inspiration are going to be popular. I have at least a couple of hundred pictures jammed in the corner of the spare room. I expect my daughter will get to enjoy these after I have long departed the scene. Lucky her!

In the interests of space, therefore, I am focusing on the much-neglected medium of tiny canvases from hot dollar. All the fun and none of the storage headache.

This is my tiny version of Edward Hopper’s self-portrait from the 1930s, on a tiny canvas (8cm x 10cm).

And here is my burgeoning tiny gallery. Weeks of work that fits in a tiny box.