A little unfair, I realise. I know it was sunny in the south because that's where I was last week, but I'm sure it was (nearly) as sunny in the north. I was on one of my periodic trips, this time to include picking up the rejected prints from Bath and seeing the exhibition.
What can I say? The standard was high, of course it was, it always is. Comparing to last year, I would say that for me there were fewer knock-out works, less range of work, but also fewer 'why on earth?' pieces. The prizes seemed (to me) to make more sense this year too - I didn't always agree (why would I, necessarily? My judging standards mostly come down to how much I like a piece, I don't know enough to say whether something is 'good' in other ways), but I never found myself gawping in disbelief either. Equally, while I certainly don't have strong feelings that I should have got into the show with one of my prints (it'll be back to my comfort zone for me from now on, I suspect), neither do I feel that either of them would have looked particularly sub-standard on the wall. Which is faintly comforting.
Somehow the notes I took this year aren't proving terribly evocative, but maybe that reflects my less intense reaction to the show. Unfair - there was some wonderful work. I stuck with the unwieldy foldy catalogue this year and scribbled on that, and some of the things I've written aren't helping. Next to one piece, for instance, I have put 'Nearly really nice'. Fair enough, I'm entitled to my opinion - if only I had the foggiest idea what exactly the opinion was formed around, what the picture was, what on earth I meant. Another note for a different pic says 'Like enough'. Well that's alright?
So how to do this? In random and scattershot fashion seems a good idea, but I could start with a couple of the prizes.
Somehow the notes I took this year aren't proving terribly evocative, but maybe that reflects my less intense reaction to the show. Unfair - there was some wonderful work. I stuck with the unwieldy foldy catalogue this year and scribbled on that, and some of the things I've written aren't helping. Next to one piece, for instance, I have put 'Nearly really nice'. Fair enough, I'm entitled to my opinion - if only I had the foggiest idea what exactly the opinion was formed around, what the picture was, what on earth I meant. Another note for a different pic says 'Like enough'. Well that's alright?
So how to do this? In random and scattershot fashion seems a good idea, but I could start with a couple of the prizes.
One of the works that won a prize (that prize being to be shown later on at the Rostra Gallery) was definitely one of my favourites. Called Angel Place (by Andrew Lansley), it's fairly large, shows a reasonably typical Bath house and is set off beautifully by a dusty blue-grey background that emphasises the cool evening shades of the image and really makes the difference (another of his pieces, while also beautifully executed, had nothing like the same heft). It has an almost other-worldly feel to it and I just can't quite put my finger on what makes it so special - which is great; why on earth should I know how the magic works? The sky is painted in the most amazingly delicate strands - perhaps that adds to the somehow pure ambience. It can't all be in the name.
Angel Place by Andrew Lansley
The drawing prize was won by Paul Newman's Langdonhill 3, soft and misty, delicate and evocative, altogether lovely. His other, even mistier, work - Bellever Tor (Sudden Mist) - was just as lovely. To have such skill with a pencil - I'm envious, but I know it also must require oodles of time and patience and attention to detail. Not my particular quality set, so I guess the lack of drawing ability on my part matters less than it might.
Langdonhill 3 by Paul Newman
Other winners included Bob Rudd's Llangrannog (watercolour prize) - a worthy winner (how can I dare to sound so pompous?) but I preferred Tim Wilmot's Road to Mount Uludag, Turkey, simply for the heat and light that poured out of it - and Leslie Glenn Damhus' Lady Playing with Cat's Cradle (portrait prize), which is delightful (loved his work last year too) and is, I know, a portrait in its way, but in a more mainstream portrait vein I very much liked Miche Watkins' Betrayed. Good grief, my tenses are all over the place. Was, is, I'm tying myself in knots, but I'm not going to try to get them all to match, so never mind.
Here's a picture of Dog. Well, no, of course it isn't. It's my half-a-second sketch next to the catalogue entry to remind me of what the image was like (ignore the first scrawl - that, believe it or not, is a star to mark a work I like). No use to anyone else, of course, but it works for me. However, Sally Muir has a site containing many dogs, all eagerly waiting to leap off the page - have a look.
There were plenty more favourites, but I'll just pick out the ones I seem to have made comments about. I love the brightness and the blues and yellows of Susan Kirkman's Landscape; the way the wooden substrate lends all its texture to Rosie Mack's Black House (I have a suspicion I've been starring her work in the catalogues for years) ; Chitra Merchant's Lumen (I should save up for one of her larger screenprints); Fay Stevens' Trace: Element (I think it was on felt?); Joanna Wright's Two Hellebores (my comment simply say 'teacup' - there was a teacup); and the small, intense, beautiful Memories by Lyn Harradine.
Writing about an exhibition - especially an open exhibition, where the work is so enormously varied - cannot do it any justice at all. Visit, that's my advice. I'll certainly be going back for another extended browse before the show finishes at the end of May.
Writing about an exhibition - especially an open exhibition, where the work is so enormously varied - cannot do it any justice at all. Visit, that's my advice. I'll certainly be going back for another extended browse before the show finishes at the end of May.
RSS Feed