Exploring through making

©Stuart Bush, The Quality of Absence, oil on aluminium panel, 80 x 112 cm

Taking on the history of art and making something new or original is very challenging. Everything seems to have been done before. Picasso said, “good artist copy, great artist steal.” Banksy crossed Picasso’s name out and stole what he said. “The bad artists imitate, the great artists steal.” Pablo Picasso Banksy.

Advertising was stripped and cleansed by Warhole as he took and re-aligned it’s image, colour and details. Pop art mirrored the overload of capitalism by using the tasteless and repetition of consumerism itself. The minimalist through their dislike for capitalism made no attempt to represent the outside, they approached art making differently, by focusing on materials and order, the form of the work became their reality. They accumulated objects and striped them bare. The supermarket stack became a careful composed stack of bricks reflecting the coldness and emptiness. The minimalists, like the pop artists before, wanted to say wake up and smell the coffee, capitalist and consumerist objects are empty and without meaning. No matter how much you buy there is still no hope of transcendence or ascendancy.

I strove to create a dialogue with what came before, Pop art, minimalism and Koons amongst others. However, my work has developed over time, and through setting up my own system of working, my thoughts have moved on. I am no longer focused on creating a dialogue about consumerism even though that’s where I started. My work has deepen and expanded through the process of making. My painting ‘the quality of absence’ allows the viewer to indulge in their own taste and expectations.

I now experiment with and explore a visual grammar. I take shapes and forms with colours and look for the underlining beauty beyond the emptiness of the surface culture. This work is extremely hand crafted with physical man made marks made through painting. By exploring pictorial convention I have developed an interest in the language of space; the space between art and life.

This new work certainly seems to have struck the right note, ‘the quality of absence’ has gone to a new home. The home of one of my customers.

Stuart Bush, The Quality of Absence

Review – Transient Space at the Parafin Gallery, London

No Omega, Sentry and Superstrasse by Mike Ballard and Tracer video by Melanie Manchot. Photo courtesy of Parafin Gallery, London
I often walk the streets of London and wonder about the space I am looking at and the transient passing of time.  I wonder what I should take from my short lived fleeting moments.  This is the subject of a group show at Parafin Gallery in London titled the ‘Transient Space’ as artists Mike Ballard, Nathan Coley, Keith Coventry, Tim Head, Melanie Manchat and Abigail Reynolds explore the space in the city.
 
Parafin Gallery just off Bond Street has been open for three years and shows emerging and established artists.  While I was there, I felt that l had the two floors to myself in the slender venue with plenty of time to browse and enjoy the fascinating show.
Tracing the city with their feet, a free runner on top of the Sage Gateshead in Melanie Manchots, Mesmerising, video installation, Tracer, 2013. Photograph Melanie Manchot; courtesy Parafin, London
Trying to make sense of transient space for many would seem futile.  I’m sure the general public would ask why would you want to make sense of the space.  Isn’t space just space, what possibly could be said about it?  However, focusing on similarly unimportant and the overlooked is the role of the artist.
Tracing the city with their feet, a free runner on top of the Sage Gateshead in Melanie Manchots, Mesmerising, video installation, Tracer, 2013. Photograph Melanie Manchot; courtesy Parafin, London
These artists are like particle physicists, interested in the basic elements of space and mass, and how are they created.  Instead of trying to understand the world through science and maths they are creating a springboard to express ideas and emotions through art.  By doing so, they capture the symphony of the city and together they fill the exhibition space, using their art to prompt a response and to allow the viewer to develop a better understanding of what has previously been overlooked.  The French composer Claude Debussy said, “Music is the space between the notes.”  This group of artists are focusing on just that, the space between the notes.
 
Parade Sculptures, 2015 by Nathan Coley; courtesy Parafin, London
Many works caught my attention starting with Nathan’s Coley’s, Firas, Ido, Rere, Ruth and Rima from 2015 made out of aluminium and perspex and approximately 130 x 35 x 35cm each.  Nathan Coley studied at the Glasgow School of Art from 1985 to 1989, and in 2007 he was shortlisted for the Turner Prize.  Before I knew that Coley has said his sculptures, ‘refer to a state of being, architectures subjected to a physical shift and partially destroyed due to an act of conflict,’  I was enjoying the way the models were presented as simple constructions of architecture made in aluminium and perspex.  This extra layer of information and with the handles on the sculptures it gives a protester the opportunity to raise the base of the pieces of sculptures aloft, elevating them, making the architecture into political statements. Nathan Coley believes these places have weight and value and he encourages the viewer to see the world from his perspective.  These architectural placards instil belief, belief in the importance of humanised spaces and the visible landscape of architecture.  It is a a declaration of sentiment that these places should be cherished and these precious spaces not blown up through conflicts.   
 
Installation shot, The past is always present, Buckingham Palace by Abigail Reynolds. Sharing Smoke, Neighbourhood Watch Mike Ballard 2017 – Photograph by Abigail Reynolds, cortesy of Parafin Gallery
 
Meanwhile, Mike Ballard’s work is interested in the grainy side of the city, his interest clearly comes from his time as a graffiti artist before studying at art Central Saint Martins.  Through a fascination of his abstract marks in forgotten places, Mike turns the overlooked into a beautiful language and abstract art form.  Not as a painter of original abstractions but by using the city as a readymade, balancing surfaces of concrete, wood and street signs with partly removed stickers and images into a visual noise of the spaces.  They capture decisive abstract moments turning them into things of beauty.  Mike’s work encourages you to focus on the fabric of the city, so you never see it the same again.  After seeing his work, l feel encouraged to further my own understanding of taking a slice of the city in search of the poetry of the city.  The show continues until 16th September.

Why am I interested in these moments?

 

©Stuart Bush, Strange Heart Sings, oil on board 30 x 40 cm
 
In my artwork, I am interested in these moments to give myself a better appreciation of the world. I am interested in considering the world anew from a fresh perspective.  We often overlook the familiar, and I want to explore its depths.  I want to become more aware of the humble things we ignore like volume, form and space.  I want to pursue a direction where I take note of and record the visual information from the beauty of nature and the material world that is right in front of me.  
 
My intention to create a re-enchantment with what is unnoticed and to appreciate ordinary moments. Abstract shapes and imperfect forms have no obvious signs of importance and are seen as unimportant. I want to draw attention to their overlooked beauty and their aesthetic qualities.   
 
The paintings are not an exact transcript of the scene but a perceiving of the scene.  They focus on simple forms.  Creating space for silence and thought in a world where everything is constantly moving and unfixed.  The paintings are a window of reality, telling no lies, reinventing nothing, just recording, a reworking of the spatial chaos of the visible world.  
 
In the paintings, the flat images are to help us deal with the complexity of our perception. Our minds automatically make connections with the shapes.  There is a lack of perspective, there is no direction of light, and they have different rules of composition.  The shapes and forms are like the pleasurable moments of seeing an elephant in the clouds; the forms slip between representational and abstract pattern.  At this point forms and content merge into together like a beautiful poem.
 
This painting is on show at Leyden Gallery, 9/9a Leyden Street, London E1 7LE.  There is a private viewing between 6:30 – 9 pm in 18 July 2017, please come along.

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Giacometti’s endless strive for perfection – A review of Alberto Giacometti at Tate Modern (10 May – 10 September 2017)

Man Pointing 1947Bronze 178 x 95 x 52 cm Tate, Purchased 1949 © Alberto Giacometti Estate, ACS/DACS, 2017

The figure was a challenging subject after the war.  For many artists, it appeared an almost impossible theme and one that Alberto Giacometti felt he had to take on in his art. The Swiss sculpture, painter, draughtsman and printmaker savoured the challenge of confronting man’s inhumanity to man with such determination that he spent his life working towards this goal in an endless strive for perfection.  The exhibition at Tate Modern takes a fresh look at Giacometti’s modern art, asking questions about the success of Giacometti’s life work. In this review, I am interested in considering the competing advantages of working with a strive for perfection against settling for artwork that is good enough in a discourse that could help me with my work.

Alberto Giacometti 1901 -1966 was born in Val Bregaghn in Switzerland. He was the son of the successful post-impressionist painter, Giovanni Giacometti. Alberto Giacometti was interested in art from an early age, at thirteen he made his first sculpture of his brother Diego, and in 1922 he moved to Paris to continue his education as an artist. Giacometti was awarded the grand prize for sculpture representing France at the Venice Biennale in 1962. 

The exhibition space at the Tate Modern starts with his formative years when Giacometti depicts what he sees from life.  As the show progresses Giacometti experiments with cubist and surrealist sculptures such as Head-Skull (1934), Torso (1925) and Cubist figure (1926). The sculptures of this period have a real physical interaction; it is interesting to see that Giacometti is trying and struggling to get a grip of his extraordinary personal view of reality.  The angular sculptures take on and contemplate the space around the figure. A cheek bone is not directly represented as a cheek bone. Instead, Giacometti creates a poetic essence of the form.  This extract of essence allows the sculpture to be an object in itself, completely eye-catching and unmatched, different from anything else.

Woman with her Throat Cut 1932Bronze (cast 1949) 22 x 75 x 58 cm National Galleries of Scotland © Alberto Giacometti Estate, ACS/DACS, 2017

It is clear that Giacometti quickly realised that depicting only what he saw in life was limiting.  The concept of these sculpture came from an alternative source when he saw fully formed ideas in his head.  The forms have a power and force about them that relates to forms and shapes from primitive art.  They contain a real freedom as if Giacometti was grappling with a concept and trying to put it in his work.  It is a remarkably varied body of work.  To me the work shows Giacometti at his experimental best.  When he went for good enough and when he had not expected the public to see some this work.   For me, this was a real highlight of the show.

Later in his career, Giacometti dedicated himself to mainly depicting men walking and standing, as well as busts and nude women.  He became known for his sculpture of thin figures with, “just enough clay for the figure to stand up and nothing more.” This approach enabled him to pursue the question further as he considered the essence of man and his following work resonated with existentialist art lovers and collectors.

Very Small Figurine c.1937-1939Plaster, traces of colour 4.5 x 3 x 3.8 cm Collection Fondation Alberto et Annette Giacometti, Paris © Alberto Giacometti Estate, ACS/DACS, 2017

In his pursuit to capture the essence, Giacometti felt the need to limit access to what inspired him. A walk in the wood was too much for him to take in. A short walk looking at one tree at a time in Paris is all he felt he could cope with. Giacometti said, “Having a quarter of an inch of something, you have a better chance of holding on to a certain feeling of the universe than if you had pretended to be doing the whole thing…by trying to draw a glass [on a table] as you see it seems like a fairly modest undertaking. But because you know that glass even that is almost impossible.”  By limiting his inspiration, Giacometti felt that it would give him a better chance of getting to the bottom of his goal and his continuous strive for perfection.  By limiting himself to only having a handful of models enabled Giacometti to focus on developing a distinctive visual language that everyone could recognise as his.  From this Giacometti felt he could go deeper into how, we, as individuals relate to others. He worked towards capturing the self-consciousness and the universal feeling of being alone in this world.

Each time Giacometti made a sculpture he always had a strong feeling of failure. Giacometti wasn’t  looking for a way to lie to himself.  He didn’t tell himself that what he was doing was good enough.  He was after perfection and anything else fell short. This disparity between his objective and his implementation opened up a breathing space for his next work, often Giacometti then repeated his previous piece. Even though he knew it was impossible to create a perfect response, Giacometti said, “All I can do will only ever be a faint image of what I see.”

Pierre Matisse, Giacometti working on Four Figurines on a Stand at the Tate Gallery,1965 © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2017

This later work grapples with getting hold of the essence of the figure and although this is where he truly becomes a master, the control of inspiration that he uses can lack some of this freedom of exploration. I have always had a high affinity with Giacometti’s work. In this exhibition I wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t focused on perfection. What if Giacometti had continued to make one-off pieces of experimental work through his career, producing work that is good enough rather than perfect?  I wonder what else Giacometti could have produced?

There is an energy that comes out of Giacometti’s work that makes his work compelling. It was interesting to watch a video of Giacometti at work in the exhibition.  He made heavily worked surfaces through squeezing, pulling, touching and pushing clay.  It was surprising watching his unconscious creativity and his obsessive restless movements as he worked on the form. Giacometti was fascinated by the head and eyes in his sculptures; he felt they represented the core of human beings and life. By getting the eyes right the rest of the figure he believed would fall into place.

Bust of Diego c.1956 Plaster 37.3 x 21.5 x 13 cm Collection Fondation Alberto et Annette Giacometti, Paris © Alberto Giacometti Estate, ACS/DACS, 2017

There is a lot to be said for comparing this to other artist’s practices. Mondrian’s repetitiveness allowed him to pursue his interest in how one shape of colour works in competition with black and white.  If Mondrian had only made one painting of a black grid with white, red and blue squares, it would of never have got to the bottom of his interest in visual order.  Without this repetitiveness, he would of never of been able to ask profound questions about the visual world and his belief that everything is an illusion. Mondrian thought that using repetition highlighted his belief that an abstract painting is truer to reality than a painting depicting the illusion of what we see.

Picasso, however, was well known for reinventing his art every few years, like his cubist works and blue period.  Picasso used new approaches to get to the bottom of his desire to depict his personal view of the world.  Matisse also reinvented his approach to making art several times, finishing his career with the biggest risk of all the cut out.  I wonder about these different contrasting approaches and wonder what approach would suit me best my practice.

In my eyes, failures are as valuable as successes.  Giacometti endlessly pursued, his search to find the universal poetic essence of a figure and the truth of our shared humanity. Giacometti did this by focusing on one tree in the forest at a time or one person in a crowd of millions.  Through this approach, he captured alienation and melancholy of life.  His engagement with searching for a truth that was always out of his reach lead him down a very restrictive path.

Woman of Venice V 1956Painted plaster 113.5 x 14.5 x 31.8 cm Collection Fondation Alberto et Annette Giacometti, Paris © Alberto Giacometti Estate, ACS/DACS, 2017

While it is admirable to focus intensely on, “a quarter of an inch of something.”  I wonder if Giacometti’s approach of limiting his inspiration and his endless strive for perfection or whether a wider body of experimental approach would suit my approach to art making?

Giacometti created a distinctive visual language with his thin sculptures of man that enabled him to find success in his lifetime.  Dreaming something up and executing it and working and stuff comes out are quite different approaches.  The lightning bolt of inspiration doesn’t strike on demand.  There is a lot to be said for starting to work and seeing what you can produce and where it takes you.

I think what I take forward for my practice from this Giacometti exhibition is that developing some kind of process is essential for removing too much thinking and self-doubt.  It is not hard to make art that looks like other art; the trick is making art that doesn’t look like someone else.  Giacometti achieved that.  Pushing your art to where no one else is working is a lot more of a quest than striving for perfection.  Problem creation with self-imposed limitations can easily be devised into a practice.  In that practice, it can be a positive decision to limit your inspiration or choices.  The only conclusion is in Giacometti’s approach is no matter what you try humankind is beyond human understanding.

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Live, paint, repeat

When starting as an artist rather than waiting for a big idea, I took my camera to the city. I took pictures of everything and anything that interested me. I just pressed and released the shutter. When l reviewed my photos, l realised that l was naturally discovering interesting material. My ideas came from living, painting and repeating.

When returning to the city with my camera, l followed my natural curiosity and my ideas deepened and expanded. At times it was hard to choose which way to take my work. It was essential to review and understand what l had. I took many directions but kept returning to taking photos of the city and taking them forward by painting them on canvas. The trick is not to give up Helsinki Bus Theory link.

I realised over time that my original idea was chasing some obscure knowledge through a simple process that I could repeat.

I feel like I have been painting the same painting for ten years as now I realise that my original ideas just got the work started. The original idea is still in my work but it has changed and developed in ways l could never have predicted. My work has grown to portray something unique that help us to understand our life on this earth a little better.

These seeds begin to germinate in many different directions like a plant does when it is attracted to light and water. It has taken many years for my original ideas and intentions to bloom into flowers. Now the interesting thing is not my original ideas or intentions. It is that l have found my way to communicate; my unique voice and inclination. As my work has deepened and expanded, it has lined up with natural talent, unlocking bigger ideas. Bigger ideas that l could never have predicted ten years ago.

The point of this post is that it is impossible to know where your practice as an artist will take you. One of the biggest challenges is learning to trust the decisions you make and to stop doubting yourself. Instead, l have developed confidence in my inner voice even when l can’t see where it is taking me.

My advice is to play, as there is no such thing as a mistake. Anything can lead to a breakthrough. If self-doubt is getting the best of you put your trust in a process and live, paint, repeat.

Over time when you review your work a way forward should reveal itself. Trust yourself and your creative process. Rather than paying attention to your own intentions, pay attention to what the work actually does. When the thinking and doing come together the work becomes more convincing.

What do I enjoyabout my time in the art studio?

 
©Stuart Bush Hard to concentrate, oil on board 30 x 40 x 3.5 cm – £1000 + shipping enquiry
My art studio is on the top floor of an old shoe factory in Northampton. I have been working in this space for over ten years now.  The space is quite full.  Ten years means ten years of equipment, ten years of paperwork and ten years of ideas on paper and canvas.  
 
I have weekly access to London where I go looking for inspiration to bring back to the studio and process my ideas.  It is great to have the exposure to view the best galleries and exhibitions and to be able to walk the streets of London with my camera.  
 
A studio is a place of unique freedom; it is a place for me and my thoughts where I can figure things out.  It is a place to use my intuition to look for problems, get things wrong, make mistakes and follow a hunch. I have learnt a way to lie to myself, and accept whatever comes out of the creative act is good enough.  
 
I feel a strong need and desire to process the world.  Thinking about my artwork is done in pencil and paint as I process what I see, as I look to figure how to process it.  I believe that what I am trying to grasp through my art practice is of importance, to get a better understanding of the seemingly meaningless void, what we call life.  
 
Through my practice as a painter if I painted nature I would want to paint the treeness of a tree, something that resonates strongly with us.  In the lines and colours of my ephemeral moments I look to reflect a visual equivalent of the rhythm the city.  The work deepens and expands to harmonise the whole.  I paint my inclination of form from the structural elements of the figure in the city to express us.   A simplified and symbolic vision that selects what is essential through reduction.  In between representational and abstraction, reality and painting.   
 
Josef Albers said in the Interaction of colour, “In musical compositions, so long as we hear merely single tones, we do not hear music.  Hearing music depends on the recognition of the in-between of the tones, of their placing and their spacing.” This quote is important to understand how I see individual pieces of my work in the studio as linked into a wider conversation I am trying to have.  My blog is titled “The Poetic Painter, Painting in pictures rather than words” because music, poetry and painting have a lot of similarities.  Like David Salle said, an iconic image has the “visual equivalent of a tenor reaching a high note.”
 
I enjoy my opportunity to communicate my thought and ideas.  I like to hear what you enjoy about your creative time.  Please join in the conversation in the comment box below.
 

A dialogue between me and my work

©Stuart Bush, Strange Heart Sings, oil on board 30 x 40 cm

I have an inherent need to communicate and express something. I am constantly looking for a new way to read the world to understand the physicality of forms. I see my practice as an exercise of being a painter/curator of moments of our lives; reclaiming a more agreeable melody, restoring, reordering and decluttering to focus on what is truly important.

By focusing on the space and the possibilities of structure and composition, I hope to emphasise the beauty and harmony from the chaos in the city, to invoke a new reading of its noise, movement and pattern. By revealing things through a slow open process, my work uncovers the importance of the positive and negative space. Where rhythm, colour and form play off each other, and each shape takes it configuration and meaning from the next, as a metaphor for the qualities of a seductive poem or an intriguing piece of music.

There is truth in the paintings as I try to deal with the present tense and how these ephemeral junctures were for me. A situation and context where discoveries and revelations happen. There is a layered time as I grapple with evidence of awkward moments, aspects of failure and changes of direction. Leaving the physical traces of responding to mistakes, that relate to intrinsic qualities of being human.

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An artist’s complicated journey of generating ideas and new work

I like documenting the world with a camera as a way to stimulate my visual imagination.  By viewing the world like a voyeur, I can focus on aspects to home into, capturing a moment in the viewfinder. I am constantly looking to find a way to make the invisible visible.
 
I don’t think you can ever underestimate the use of play and intuition at this point.  The following work from the photos can go in almost any direction, finding ambiguity in the work is essential.  To stimulate my imagination and generate new ideas I sketch with an open mind in paint, pencil and mixed media. The work itself often directs a change of medium.  This long process is different every time, it involves searching, analysing, selecting, editing, improving and rejecting the photographs, and the prep work, combined with other visual and textual information in the studio creating a multifaceted sketch book.  
 
The paintings come out of drawings, and a significant amount of labour takes place behind the scenes.  The work is often a struggle, and as an artist, I am often overwhelmed with self-doubt.  Afterwards, the work may look as if it was achieved quickly without effort. But I am aware that a reductive sketch, that may seem effortless, can often signify ability and skill.
 
©Stuart Bush, Study for Law of the Jungle
During the problem-creation stage my thoughts and skill are juxtaposed with accidents of the initial rough ideas.  When I was trying to get my thoughts down on paper I recognised the potential in this study above straight away, even though it is a simple coloured wash made in a few strokes that came about by chance.  It is too easy to lose the potential when trying to repeat it or refine it and knowing how to turn it into a finished work.  Over working and excessive labour can remove the movement, action or expression.   At other times it is not easy to recognise potential straight off.  This is where time helps and why I move my work so I can’t see it for long periods of time.
 
The space for play and chance to expand conceptual ideas is part of a process, as work passes through many physical processes.  The challenge of creating a finished work from the prep work is repeating and keeping the problem-creation open.  Often when the process does not allow imprecise marks, smears and stains to inspire radical changes at any stage of the process, the work can be still born and dead.  All the works l make are biographical and very personal.
 
©Stuart Bush, The Law of the Jungle, oil on aluminium panel, 38 x 76 cm – £3000 + shipping enquiry

If you would like to read what other artists have to say on this subject please take a look at;

https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2012/jan/02/top-artists-creative-inspiration

10 Reasons to Keep a Sketchbook

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/11/04/sketchbook_n_6096058.html

Please comment below about your thoughts and experiences related to this post, ‘An artist’s complicated journey of generating ideas and new work’

The search for originality in the artist’s studio

©Stuart Bush, Nobodies fault, oil on board 70.2 x 50.4 x 3.6cm – £1400 + shipping enquiry

 

A space to play, where anything is possible is such an important place for a creative person.  Having a space to go to and process the world and its complexities is extremely valuable and I feel very lucky to have the freedom around my full-time job and family life.

 

There is something very special about making work with just a few strokes with an open mind in an instant.  A pencil or brush in my hand with an open mind allows me to be transported to a place where ideas are instinctive, intuitive and spontaneous.  Accidents from unintended foot prints, rings from coffee cups, photocopiers, spills and accidents all have their place.   These studio sessions often leaves my thoughts uncovered and on display in their raw state where my ego is left aside.

 

These ideas can be explored and refined but at this point the conscious self comes back into the room.  The energy and emotions in the preliminary drawings and paintings that came from this outburst of freedom can often be lifted onto another sheet for further refinement. The open-ended problem creation can often be more prized than the problem solving finished work that follows.

 

I find that at this point, just after the preliminary studies, I don’t know what I have got.  I often find a place to store this work and revisit it at a later time.  This time lapse helps me to realise what I have really got.  This is when l contemplate the potential and hopefully uncover original ideas.  After all, everything has been done before, very little is original.  New work is often a shadow or an echo of what the artist has seen or experienced before.  This process can also often lead to selecting, editing and reworking, to look for originality.  The artist’s studio is also a place for destruction, recovery and transformation.

 

Chuck Close, the New York painter, has this to say,  “We often don’t know what we want to do, but we sure as hell know what we don’t want to do.  So the choice not to do something is often more important than the choice to do something.”  

 

I find problem creation as a process is much more effective in finding interesting art than a problem-solving approach, Duchamp said: “the artist has only 50% of the responsibility, and that is to get the work out, it is completed by the viewer.”

If you like this post and the work above please comment about this post below or join my mailing list here to have these posts sent to your inbox in a newsletter once a month.

What is my motivation?

©Stuart Bush The rush 2016 oil on board 50 x 70 cm – £1000 + shipping enquiry
I am interested in the exploration of painting as a vehicle for visual thinking.  I believe painting and playing with form inside the composition has the potential to capture the most important kind of expression and I see it as a foundation of thinking itself.  My studio is a place I can go to and using painting techniques, process the world and it’s complexities.
My motivation is more than just an interest in the formal qualities and painterly questions of scale, content, colour and form. I’m interested in expressing the physical and emotional vigour of the human body in the city as a means of exercises in freedom and dynamic expressions of space.
A situation needs to take place on the canvas, with too much preparation the painting is dead, with too little preparation it can easy end up wayward or in disarray.  The creativity in the artwork lies in finding a balance and tension between the forms in the relationship between painterly marks, abstract and figurative forms.   The outcome needs to be a surprise and a revelation for me as much as the viewer.  The finished painting is never good enough; I enjoy the surprise and delight, and this is my motivation to make another one.
I would be very interested to hear about what the motivation is in whatever you do.  Please add a comment if you would like to share your thoughts.